Ladybug Hood
by LadybugXPrincess
Summary: Ladybug is a brave outlaw who robs from the rich to feed the poor. But she is also Marinette, an orphan peasant girl who is deeply in love with her childhood sweetheart, Sir Adrien. When the greedy Princess Chloe hosts an archery tournament to catch Ladybug, the life of the red-hooded archer - and everyone in Nottingham - will forever change.
1. Oo-De-Lally

_Secrets of Sherwood: An Account of Nottingham's Most Renowned Heroes_

Chapter V:

**"The Adventures of Ladybug: The Red Archer"**

In the writing hand of Nathaniel a'Dale

circa. 1192

AUTHOR'S INTRODUCTION

_There's been a heap of legends and tall tales about the red-hooded archer called "Ladybug"... all of them different too._

_Well, we English folk have our own way of telling it. It's the story of what really happened in Nottingham and its neighbouring wood; the great, green canopy of Sherwood Forest._

_I was one of the first people to know Ladybug long before she ever became the most famous outlaw of our time. Some folks, to this day, believe that such a girl had never existed, or that the infamous "Red Archer" had never been a girl to begin with. Therefore, as Ladybug's friend and ally, I have sworn to put the truth of her adventures to paper, for the sake of putting all these needless doubts and fickle rumours to rest._

_My name is Nathaniel a'Dale. I am a minstrel, singer, and storyteller from Nottingham. My job is to tell it like it is, or, more appropriately, like it _was_._

_This account was recorded in my youth, during the years when King Felix the Lionheart embarked on his crusade of the Holy Land. His younger sister, Princess Chloe _–_ known today as the "Phoney Queen of England" _–_ took advantage of the king's absence and began inflicting heavy taxations on the poor people of England, driving them into poverty and despair._

_Nottingham was hit the hardest during this time, with its less-than-honourable Sheriff Roger sweeping the streets for tax dodgers and, more commonly, the chivalrous outlaws who sought refuge within the fairy-esque folds of Sherwood._

_One outlaw, in particular, evaded the relentless Sheriff and his posse at every turn: a young woman who "robbed from the rich to feed the poor", as was her motto._

_This is where we shall begin her story..._

* * *

CHAPTER ONE:

OO-DE-LALLY

It was a beautiful day in Sherwood Forest.

The evergreen leaves shielded the earthy pathway from the onslaught of the afternoon sun, yet the air still prickled with buttery, summer heat.

Though it looked like there wasn't a soul to be seen, Ladybug knew the little critters who called this wood their home were watching from the foliages. Squirrels, raccoons, foxes, moles, rabbits... She could just imagine them poking their furry heads out of their hovels to get a glimpse of the colourfully-cloaked human taking a stroll into their territory.

Ladybug just smiled and lifted back the hood of her bright-red cloak, which hung all the way down to her knees behind her. The field of red was peppered with large, black polka-dots. Definitely not something a proper lady would wear, especially at the height of summer.

But Ladybug, despite what her name suggested, was no proper lady. She was an outlaw – a rogue on the run from the law.

Beyond the magnificent trees of Sherwood lay Nottingham, the decrepit village to which Ladybug was never to return upon pain of death. Yet she returned there all the time. Nottingham was her home. It wasn't the sharpest jewel in the treasure horde, but every creak and crack was evidence of all the hard work Ladybug's people had achieved just to keep a roof over their heads.

Ladybug shook out her two small ponytails, which glistened with the blue hue of a midnight sky. The breeze she created kissed the back of her sweaty neck, and she sighed with content.

The blunette knew she was taking a huge risk walking out in the open wearing red, not to mention the faded white tunic and pants, the beautiful red belt with golden accents that carried a small knife, and the worn, leather arm-guards and matching boots that a cobbler had given her as a gift for saving him from the stocks. Any decent outlaw would've tried to be a little less conspicuous. But conspicuous was never one of Ladybug's best qualities.

Luckily, what she lacked in stealth, she made up for in speed and finesse. Oh, _and_ archery. The quiver of red-fletched arrows on her back, along with the beautifully-carved oaken bow, were proof of that.

She might be needing them soon enough, if that ruffling sound Ladybug heard in the bushes behind her were any indication she was being watched.

She had a hunch it wasn't a squirrel, or _any_ animal, for that matter.

Ladybug's mouth curled upward, her bluebell eyes bright with mischief, and she started to whistle a merry folk tune to herself. She never once turned around or reached for her bow, or even her knife. She just kept walking at a steady pace, her boots stepping in time with her song.

A normal young lady of eighteen years would've made a run for it by now. A crack of a twig or the shiver of a nearby bush was enough to make anyone jumpy. It could've been bandits waiting to leap out and threaten to slit your throat if you didn't give them all your valuables.

But Ladybug knew better. She knew these characters had been following her for about half-an-hour, waiting for the perfect opportunity to corner the red-hooded archer and take her by surprise. The Sheriff probably thought that was very clever of him.

He'd learn soon enough.

Ladybug continued along the trail, until she caught the blissful sight of flowing water just ahead of her.

A narrow, crystal-clear river cut through the forest like a stitch cutting through fabric. The bank was all steep earth, and the water looked deep enough to swim in. There was also a large, fallen tree that someone had cut down to make a bridge for people to walk decently across.

The sight of fresh water was enough to make Ladybug's throat dry, and she hastened over to the edge. Since it was too steep for her bend over while on her knees, Ladybug sank onto her stomach before reaching down and cupping up some water with both hands. She took a healthy drink, smacking her lips with a shudder.

The more she drank, the more she was keenly aware that her tailgaters were getting antsy. No doubt they were now realizing this was the opening they had been waiting for: their opponent vulnerable and sprawled precariously beside the river, with nowhere to run or slink off to.

Sure enough, by the time Ladybug finished drinking and crawled up into a sitting position, she wasn't alone on the bank anymore.

Five men in archery garb blocked the trail, each one bearing the yellow-and-blue checkered colours of Princess Chloe of England. Their black arrows were nocked and pointed directly at Ladybug. Their scowls and leering eyes were all she should make out underneath their broad hoods. Some of them had a handsome bit of stubble on their chins, which meant these archers took proper care of their appearance.

Yep. Definitely royal guards.

A nearby bush shook with laughter, and when Ladybug glanced over, another man stepped out to join his comrades.

This one brandished a thick-bladed sword that went nicely with his thick round belly, which looked like it would tear through the tight, blue tunic at the slightest movement. Along with those white leggings, puffy blue pants and shoulder cuffs, and a blue hat with a long white feather atop of his mop of brilliant red hair, he looked like a court jester.

Ladybug almost said as much out loud, but she knew Sheriff Roger of Nottingham had a fuse as short as his reach.

She just smiled brightly at him like a noblewoman greeting a guest at a fancy party. Again, her fingers didn't twitch towards her weapons, even though death was literally five feet in front of her.

"Well, well, well," Sheriff Roger sneered, patting the flat of his blade against his palm like a butcher ready to slaughter a pig. "Look what we got here, boys. A little lady lost in the woods."

A few of his men snickered.

Ladybug couldn't help but grin. "Lost?" she repeated with raised eyebrows. "Why, my good Sheriff, I was under the impression that _you_ were lost. Did you forget where Nottingham was?" She pointed westward. "It's just down that way."

Roger's sneer crumpled into a tight frown, and he lifted the point of his sword under her chin. "You can't talk your way out of this one, Ladybug," he snarled. "You're under arrest, and you'll be coming with us to the princess."

Unfazed by the sharp tip at her throat, Ladybug rose to her feet, still grinning. "A meeting with Princess Chloe herself? I'm honoured!" She carefully shimmied her feet towards the edge of the river bank. "But I'm afraid my schedule just won't allow it. Places to go, stuff to steal, poor people to help out... I'm booked."

The Sheriff smirked again. "Did you not hear me the first time? You'll be coming with us... whether you like it or not." He beckoned his men forward.

The royal guards took a few steps closer, herding Ladybug further against the river and cutting her off from quick access to the fallen tree. She was trapped.

Exactly what she was hoping for.

"Hmm... well, all right," Ladybug shrugged. "If you boys insist. But um..." She pointed a dainty finger past Roger's head. "You might be interested to know that there's someone behind you."

"Ha! You think I'm gonna fall for that old trick?" Roger chortled, his belly shaking like a pouch of water. "You peasants never learn. Men, take her!"

An arrow went flying... but it wasn't one of the guards who had fired the shot.

This one snapped the feather on the Sheriff's cap clean off before shooting straight over the river and out of sight.

Ladybug's eagle eyes caught the orange fletching of the arrow before it sailed over her head.

She grinned bigger. "Told ya."

Roger's baby-blue eyes shrank, and he snapped around with newfound terror.

The rest of his bewildered posse followed suit, their backs to their prisoner.

But no one was there. Just an empty path surrounded by undisturbed forest.

Ladybug giggled. "You _soldiers_ never learn," she jeered.

Then, the blunette turned to the guard blocking her from the fallen tree and kicked his feet out from under him in one swipe.

The man shrieked as he fell backwards over the edge of the river and landed with a huge splash. His feet were the last to go under.

Lightning-fast, Ladybug sprinted for the makeshift tree bridge, her red cloak fanning out behind her. She stepped as lightly as a tightrope walker along the narrow trunk.

"_After her!_" Roger bellowed to his men.

Ladybug smiled as she ran into the thick maze of trees, enjoying the fresh, leaf-scented wind blowing against her. The exhilaration of the chase gave her all the speed she needed.

Moreover, the guards had to stop in order to fire their arrows, so they fell even further behind.

But their shots didn't.

_Whizz! Chunk! Chunk! Whizz! Chunk!_

Arrows flew all around Ladybug, some just missing her by a smidgeon before embedding themselves into the dirt like black darts on a board. One whizzed past the blunette's ear, singing harshly as it went by.

Ladybug tensed. _Heh... They've been practicing_, she thought.

But she still had one other advantage over her pursuers: the trees.

Once she was certain she was out of sight, Ladybug jumped and grabbed onto a low, overhanging branch belonging to an enormous birch tree. With the slinkiness of a cat, she hoisted herself up and climbed up delicately to the higher branches, which were all thick with green foliage. Not even her red cloak could be seen through it.

Ladybug stopped and pressed her back to the tree trunk, easing her breathing out in slow, controlled bursts.

It wasn't long before she heard the thumps of hard footsteps on grass, along with the panting and irritated grunts of sweaty men. Ladybug stood silent and vigilant, making sure to stay clear of any small openings in the canopy in case a soldier's gaze wandered upward.

"Where'd she go?" one of them asked sharply.

"I'm telling ya – that lady runs like a demon!" wheezed another.

"Well, she ain't gonna run forever. Keep going, or the Sheriff will have _our_ heads!"

There was more pounding of feet upon the earth, which gradually faded until there was nothing but the frequent chirps of birds and the soft brush of leaves in the breeze.

Just then, a smooth feminine voice spoke from the other side of the tree, "I think you took too many chances back there."

Ladybug smiled and eased her way around until she saw another hooded figure balancing on the thick branch she stood upon.

It was a girl of similar age to Ladybug, but with darker skin and auburn hair that streamed out of the hood of her orange-coloured cloak. Beneath it was a white tunic, black leggings, and black boots. She had a quarterstaff leaning against her shoulder, and a hand propped on her hip in a suave manner.

The girl's amber eyes gleamed up at Ladybug warily, like a fox sniffing its surroundings. A fair description, considering the name the public had given her: Rena Rouge – the _red fox_. Ladybug's partner-in-crime.

Not that either of them were criminals. At least, not in the minds of the poor people of Nottingham. Sadly, once you rebelled against the likes of Princess Chloe and her tax collectors, it was either jail or the gallows for you. Maybe both.

Ladybug sighed as she came to stand before her friend in their treetop sanctuary. "Chances?" she repeated with a smug grin. "C'mon, Rena, we were just having fun with those guys."

While Roger had followed Ladybug, Rena Rouge had followed Roger. Earlier that day, when the girls had spotted the Sheriff and his posse on patrol, Ladybug decided to play around with the rotund redhead and make herself noticeable. All Rena had to do was keep a healthy distance away from Roger until it was time to spring the surprise.

It was worth it. Ladybug was tired of watching the cruel princess's cronies strutting around and doing whatever they pleased, bringing the fearful peasantry lower than they already were. It always made Ladybug's blood boil. Humiliating Sheriff Roger counted as an act of justice in her book.

Rena Rouge smirked at her best friend. "_Fun_, huh?" She pointed downward. "Take a look at your cloak. It's not a candle on a cake."

Blinking, Ladybug lifted the side of her cloak up. It caught in the faint breeze like a sail, revealing a few bulging stitches in the fabric; scars of previous arrows and knives that had come pretty close to nicking the red rogue.

Now, a fresh tear opened up in the back. A black arrow hung in the web of stitching like a useless reed.

Ladybug's freckled face scrunched with disappointment. "Ah, man," she whined. "That's the third one this month." She yanked the arrow out and passed it to Rena. Then, she poked her fingers through the hole to assess the damage.

It wasn't too big, and Ladybug was particularly good with a needle and thread. If she had the power, she would stitch all of Nottingham back together into the beautiful tapestry it had once been... before King Felix unwittingly left England in the hands of his tyrannical sister.

Ladybug sighed and affixed Rena with fresh concern. "They're getting better," she said, letting the end of her cloak fall back against her legs. "I will admit that much: they _are_ getting better."

Rena stopped examining the arrow and let out a mirthless chuckle. "Yeah, and next time, the Sheriff might have a rope around our necks." She grasped her own throat, crossed her eyes, and let out a strangled "_Ahck!_" Rena's face fell solemnly as she rubbed her neck. "Pretty hard to laugh when you're hanging, LB."

Ladybug shuddered. She'd be lying if she said the thought of a hangman's noose never frightened her. No one had been publicly executed in a long time, but Princess Chloe was always one to be descriptive when threatening anyone who opposed her. Ruling through fear, apparently, was more appealing to the blonde bimbo than ruling through love.

Ladybug couldn't let those morbid thoughts discourage her, otherwise there would be no one else to keep Nottingham safe.

"Relax, Rena," she told her friend, staring out through one of the holes in the forest foliage. "The Sheriff and his whole posse can't even tie a proper knot."

Rena shrugged, fiddling with the black arrow in silence.

Then, out of the blue, the redhead shouted, "_En garde!_"

Ladybug snapped back to attention and ducked just as Rena's new toy came flying through the spot where her head used to be.

The arrow clinked against the branches as it toppled down to the forest floor.

Ladybug reeled with shock before frowning incredulously at her chortling partner. "Rena Rouge!" she rasped.

Rena's eyes gleamed gold in the sunlight, and she folded her arms. "You see what I mean?" she asked. "If you don't keep your head up, you're gonna lose it."

Ladybug huffed and quickly checked to make sure her scalp and ponytails were still intact. She knew her best friend was trying to offer a nugget of wisdom, but still. "You worry too much," Ladybug grumbled.

Rena shrugged again, as though she _hadn't_ tried to take her friend's head out a second ago, and she turned to stare out through the evergreen canopy.

Ladybug straightened and smoothed out her uniform. "I know what I'm doing, Rena," she said with soft assurance. "Trust me on this."

Rena smiled begrudgingly and looked over at her. "You know, LB? I was wondering earlier... Do you think we're good guys or bad guys?"

Ladybug blew a raspberry. "What kind of a question is _that_?"

"Well, cause you're always saying things like "I'm robbing the rich to feed the poor"." The redhead made a face. "_Rob_ is such a naughty word, you know what I mean?"

Ladybug tilted her head to the side. "True. But we never really _rob_. We just... you know, borrow a bit from those who can afford it."

Rena looked at her amusedly. "_Borrow?_" Her mouth twisted into a grin. "Boy, are we in debt."

Ladybug broke out cackling, her voice carrying along the trees. Rena Rouge joined her.

At that moment, another bellowing sound broke the silence of the wood: a proud, piercing trumpet.

_DAAdaadaaDAAAAAAAAAA!_

Ladybug and Rena Rouge froze, listening intently.

Then, a whole chorus of trumpets burst into song, playing the foot-marching tune of the royal fanfare.

Ladybug squealed with excitement, rubbing her hands together. "Oo-de-lally! That sounds like another collection day for the poor. Don't you think?"

Her partner brought that sly cunningness of hers back out, and her amber eyes sparkled. "Oh yeah," Rena said, extending her fist to Ladybug. "Sweet charity."

Ladybug fist-bumped her proudly.

It was time for Nottingham's most notorious outlaws to go to work.

* * *

**LXP: Greetings, FanFictioneers!**

**This crossover has characters from the cartoon _Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Cat Noir_ in the story of the 1973 Disney film _Robin Hood_. I'm just going to say this once this time: I do not own either franchise or anything involved with them, including songs and characters.**

**Also, the book title in the beginning is completely made up, although the year date is a nod to the time of Richard I of England's reign.**

**So without further ado, enjoy the story!**


	2. The Princess and the Plot

CHAPTER TWO:

THE PRINCESS AND THE PLOT

Somewhere along the King's Highway, just north of Nottingham, a royal parade marched into the majestic greenwood.

At the head of the procession, a single man carried a proud, blue flag with a golden wasp and a bold crown for its sigil: Princess Chloe's coat-of-arms.

The royal trumpeters blared the kingdom's anthem through red, puffy cheeks. Other musicians slammed on drums or blew vibrant pipes. Behind them, four burly guards heaved a massive, copper chest on supports they carried staunchly on their shoulders.

But the greatest eye-popper of this parade was the glittering, golden coach being pulled by four mighty, white stallions. Though it was entirely made of wood, the coach was painted in gold, giving it a more prominent, rich glamour. Moreover, every decoration from the roof and frames to the hubcaps of the large wheels was pure, solid gold.

The purple curtains were normally closed while travelling. But today, they had been pulled apart on one side of the coach, exposing two women lounging on their frilly cushions with their treasures.

Princess Chloe never enjoyed the outdoors. But the summer heat made the inside of her grand litter more humid, and _that_ made the princess's smooth, golden hair frizz up on the ends. Chloe didn't like that, so she commanded Sabrina, her fidgety lady-in-waiting, to draw the curtains and let the fresh air in.

Besides, it pleased the twenty-year-old monarch to smile and stare with crude smugness at the tiny, cookie-cutter villages that sat along the highway. She hated peasants and their wretched smock, but Chloe never turned down an opportunity to show off her plush, radiant gown of red satin silk and fine French lace, as well as her bejewelled bracelets, rings, and necklaces that flashed in the sunlight. Every time Chloe caught the widened, envious gazes of the common folk, it made her sparkle with pride. _Quite_ literally.

But once her entourage passed into Sherwood Forest, Princess Chloe leaned back in her cushions to relax. Trees were not worth her attention. She preferred counting from the bags of gold taken from the tax collectors scattered in every town throughout the kingdom. Aside from being the centre of admiration, Chloe was always happiest when surrounded by money.

The princess's blue eyes twinkled as she picked up a handful of coins from an open bag, letting them rain back down through her fingers. She sighed with a giggle. "Taxes," she said in a nasal, high-pitched voice. "Beautiful, lovely taxes!"

Lady Sabrina sat across from the princess, holding a large, two-handed mirror in her lap. She wore a simple but elegant dress of olive-green etched with crimson thread. Her cropped, fiery hair fell flat past her face, and her teal eyes bore childish excitement and reverence.

"Your Highness," Sabrina said in her mousy voice, "you have an absolute skill for _encouraging_ contributions from the poor."

Chloe smirked at that, and she curled a finger through one of the curly strands bouncing beside her face. "To coin a phrase, my dear servant," she said. "Rob the _poor_ to feed the _rich_."

Both ladies laughed at the joke.

Making a mockery out of the notorious outlaw Ladybug, _and_ her motto, was another one of Chloe's part-time pleasures.

Though the princess had never actually _seen_ Ladybug before, the red-hooded archer's reputation was a frequent topic at court. Most of the nobles often made fun of her. A peasant stealing on behalf of an entire town of snivelling rats? And a _girl_ besides? It was inconceivable!

But one stout man, the Duke of Hodcot, didn't join in on the laughter. "She's real," he said with a trembling tone. "And dangerous too. The last time I was in Nottingham, she swept my carriage into a ditch and made off with my chest, my horses... even the clothes off my back! She's a _witch_, I say! She ought to be beheaded and burned! If any of you go near that cursed place, you'll draw her wrath upon you! And mark my words, you won't be laughing again!"

Princess Chloe shrugged at the memory. Nottingham was her next stop on her tour of the kingdom. Once she arrived, she would set things straight. No more outlaws would scurry along the gutters again. And no one, not even an eighteen-year-old girl, would _dare_ try to steal from the future Queen of England.

Speaking of being a queen, Chloe reached for the large, golden crown perched on one of her velvet pillows. She held it up in the sunlight, smiling at the metallic sheen.

The six teeth of the crown were broad and flat, and the band was adorned with twelve jewels in a symmetrical pattern: three rubies, three emeralds, and six smaller diamonds. The crown was big, and meant for a man – not a woman. For, you see, it belonged originally to King Felix, Chloe's much-beloved older brother.

But then he traded his crown for a war helmet, and left it in Chloe's hands. A sad failure on _his_ part.

Sabrina held up the mirror, and Chloe beamed brightly at her pale, pearly reflection. She gently lifted the crown and placed it on top of her head.

Gold was heavy, but apparently _this_ gold was heavier. The crown slid down the back of Chloe's head, causing the front to almost obscure her eyes. The princess frowned.

"A _perfect_ fit, mistress!" Sabrina praised, ever the sycophantic one. "Most becoming! You look regal, dignified, sincere, masterful..." She took a breath. "... noble, elegant, spectac–"

"Don't," Chloe interrupted flatly. "Don't overdo it, Sabrina."

She adjusted the crown, shifting her ponytail a bit, and then lifted her hands away. When the crown didn't fall off this time, Chloe grinned. "There. That, I believe, does it?"

Sabrina nodded in confirmation.

The princess sighed with content. "I was _made_ to wear a crown like this. _This_ is how a true princess should appear: _powerful_." She chuckled darkly, slurring that word on her tongue. "Powerful..."

She snapped her fingers, and Sabrina passed her the mirror. Chloe flashed her gleaming smile as she double-checked the position of her crown. "Mmm... it even matches my hair," she stated as though it was a big surprise.

"Oh, yes," Sabrina said eagerly, clasping her hands together. "How well King Felix's crown sits upon your noble brow."

"It really brings out the blue in my – _What?_" the princess snapped, her voice darkening like a sudden thunderstorm. She laid down the mirror and pivoted towards Sabrina, her petite face twisting hideously. "_King_ Felix?"

Sabrina gasped and covered her mouth, her pupils shrinking into her sockets.

"Sabrina, what did I tell you about mentioning my brother's name." Chloe's words came out as a dark remark instead of a question, and her eyes became narrow blades that could skewer a person to the bone.

It was an expression that spoke clearly: I_ am England's rightful ruler. _I_ am the queen._

The timid maidservant giggled nervously, her cheeks rosy. "A thousand pardons, Your Majesty," she breathed. "It was a... mere slip of the tongue."

Chloe's frown remained, but her features softened. "Well, see that it doesn't "slip" again," she commanded with honeyed coolness. "I didn't rise to power just to remain a princess."

Sadly, no matter how many times she spoke it into existence, Chloe would never stop being a princess. Not as long as Felix still lived.

"I understand completely, my pri–" Sabrina cleared her throat. "My queen. After all, we're in this plot together, if you don't mind my saying so. And it was by _your_ command that I forged those fake holy documents."

A warm sneer appeared on Chloe's face, her bitterness and jealousy forgotten.

It was a brilliant plot! With Felix now out of the way, Chloe had full control over all of England. If Felix died in battle, the throne would pass to her. If he returned, Chloe would have _more_ than enough gold and soldiers to have him overthrown and shipped across the sea in a slaver's brig. Either way, the princess would win.

"Oh, my dear, _stupid_, big brother," Chloe mused, "rushing off of that crazy crusade!" She burst out into snort-like cackling.

Sabrina shared the princess's amusement, and she giggled into her hand. Then, she looked up with a pitiful sigh. "Much to the sorrow of the Queen Mother."

Chloe suddenly stiffened. That name was almost as worse as Felix's!

Her face crumpled with misery, and she let out a shivery whimper. "Mother..." She pouted and drew her knees up to her chest like a naughty girl in time-out.

Felix had gotten _everything_: the throne, the wealth, the glory, the love of his people... even that of his mother Queen Audrey, who apparently was _far_ too busy being supportive of her son and heir to pay any real attention to her daughter – the _spare_.

Chloe had never forgiven her mother for that, even after the old queen passed away a couple years ago. Now, just the memory of her made the princess fall into depression.

She scowled, as though trying not to cry. "Mother always did like _Felix_ best," she muttered with pure disdain. Then, she curled up into a tight ball, put her thumb in her mouth, and start sucking rather noisily.

Sabrina's face twisted with uneasiness and sympathy. "Your Highness, _please_ don't do that," she pleaded softly. "It's not good for your self-esteem. And... well, you see... you have a very loud thumb."

Chloe ignored her and kept on sucking, staring off into oblivion.

Sabrina rolled her eyes to the coach roof, stood up, and opened a chest carrying the princess's personal belongings.

When she came back and sat down, she displayed a small, worn, yellow teddy bear with button eyes and a white-and-black-striped belly. It made a soft, squeaky noise whenever Sabrina moved its limbs and head.

She didn't like doing this. It was not only embarrassing – it was downright _ridiculous_. But alas, Sabrina was Chloe's lady-in-waiting. She would do whatever it took to bring the princess back to normal, however pathetic it may be.

"Your Highness?" the redhead sang sweetly. "You really shouldn't sulk like this. Mr. Cuddly wouldn't want his precious princess to be sad, would he?"

Chloe's eyes jerked up at the teddy bear, and she immediately stopped sucking, though her thumb was still in her mouth. "Hmm?" she asked.

Sabrina smiled and made the bear's head nod. "That's right. Mr. Cuddly wants his princess to be _happy_, so she can take over the kingdom and never have to live through those painful memories again."

The princess yanked her thumb out with a wet _Pop!_ Then, with a big smile, she snatched up the teddy bear from Sabrina's hands and squeezed it tight, making the bear squeak.

After a few minutes in blissful silence, Princess Chloe regained her cold, haughty composure, straightened up in her seat, and cleared her throat. "Never speak of this to anyone," she stated, "or you're _walking_ to Nottingham."

Sabrina tried not to roll her eyes again as she curtsied. Chloe had never said "thank you" once in her life. There was no sense in starting now.

"Wouldn't dream of it, Your Eminence," the redhead sighed. "Wouldn't dream of it."


	3. Fortune Tricksters

CHAPTER THREE:

FORTUNE TRICKSTERS

Unbeknownst to the princess or her escort, a pair of thieves were observing them from the bushes further up along the road.

This time, though, Ladybug and Rena Rouge didn't look like thieves. Both girls had traded their worn-out leathers and hooded cloaks for dresses, shawls, and bandanas. Now they looked like a pair of peasant women taking a stroll in the woods.

Ladybug had gone for a simple dress with a white, off-the-shoulder top, a black leather corset, and a milky pink skirt that fell down to the ground. Calfskin shoes adorned her feet, and a black, threadbare shawl was wrapped around her shoulders. A grey wig covered Ladybug's midnight-blue hair, with a red bandana and a pair of large, golden-hooped earrings to go with it. Lastly, her face had been painted with streaks of white and brown, making her skin look wrinkly and saggy – like an old lady.

Beside her, looking absolutely miserable, Rena Rouge readjusted her orange bandana over her own grey wig, frowning in matching makeup. Her dress was entirely green with thin shoulder straps and a dark-grey, long-sleeve tunic underneath. Her burlap shawl was not a shawl at all, but a large bag.

Needless to say, these weren't the girls' best disguises. But who in England would ever suspect a couple of cooky old ladies to be outlaws?

As the parade marched on and the golden coach came into view, Ladybug beamed with roguish fascination. _I knew it_, she thought. _It _is_ her!_

This would be their greatest heist yet!

Rena, apparently, didn't think so. She eyed the coach with disappointment. "Now what about _that_ for luck?" she grumbled to her partner, her makeup making her look like a grumpy crone. "We got gussied up for a _circus_; a juvenile marching band."

Ladybug blinked at her. "Juvenile?" She giggled. "Look closer, Rena. Only _one_ person in the kingdom rides around in a golden coach." A sly grin rose up in one corner of her mouth. "It's Princess Chloe herself!"

Suddenly, Rena looked paler than her makeup would allow. "The _princess?!_" she rasped. "You mean that's the _royal_ coach?!"

Before Ladybug could answer, the redhead scrambled hastily out the bush.

"Uh-uh. No way!" Rena stated. "There's a law against robbing royalty." She waved her hand in a dismissive gesture and turned away. "I'll catch you later!"

She took a few healthy steps away... before Ladybug ran right over and blocked her path with her outstretched palms facing Rena.

"_What?!_" Ladybug said incredulously as she straightened with a frown. "We've robbed from more heavily-guarded convoys than _this_. Now we've found our biggest score ever, and the first thing that comes to your mind is "I'll catch you later"?!" She bent her two forefingers on both hands for emphasis.

Rena looked even _more_ worried now. Not just for her, but for her adventurous best friend who could never ignore a challenge. "Ladybug... Even if we get away with this, there's only one way Her Royal Greediness will make peace with us." She drew a finger across her throat and made a sick, gargling noise. "That's worse than a hanging!"

Ladybug sighed, her face softening, and placed her hands on her hips. "Come on... When has _that_ kind of fear ever stopped _us_?" she said with brave assertion. "When we teamed up, we promised we'd do anything to help Nottingham, even if we had to swipe Princess Chloe's crown from her own bedside." Ladybug beckoned to the coach with a smile. "Think of how many mouths we can feed with all that gold in there! Besides..." She grabbed the side of her dress and swept into an elegant curtsy. "Would we really miss this chance to perform before royalty?"

Rena Rouge glanced heavenward with a groan, though her lips twisted with amusement.

No matter how dangerous a heist was; no matter how rich their unsuspecting victim was, Ladybug stole only for other people. She never did anything for fame or glory. She had spent the last four years watching Nottingham rot away like a field of vegetables in autumn. All she wanted to do now was bring life and joy back; to see hope and happiness in the people's eyes again.

That dream alone was enough to convince Ladybug to never give up, and it eventually convinced Rena Rouge too. _Here we go again_, she thought.

She looked back at her partner. "All right," Rena moaned playfully before drawing up a sly smile. "Then let's give Queen Bee a show she'll never forget."

Ladybug's delighted grin was a wondrous sight, even with the wrinkly makeup.

* * *

Just when Sabrina thought the rest of the ride would be smoother, she hit another bump on the road.

For at that moment, a croaky voice called somewhere outside, right over the repetitive orchestra:

"Oo-de-lally, oo-de-lally! Fortune tellers!"

Sabrina stiffened.

Princess Chloe, on the other hand, perked up in her seat like a puppet on a string, her bags of gold forgotten.

A different voice sounded, bolder but still old and feminine like the other. "Fortune's forecast! Lucky charms!"

"Get the scoop with your horoscope!" the first one announced.

Chloe stood up at once, her face as bright as a child's on Christmas. Before Sabrina could stop her, the princess shimmied to the open window of the coach and peered out towards the front.

Sabrina did the same, her teal eyes narrowing.

Two old women were waving daintily at the royal entourage, their clothes colourful but dull. The shorter one with the black shawl held a scroll, while the taller woman tossed a crystal ball up and down in her hand.

"Ooh! Fortune tellers!" Chloe exclaimed, shuddering with excitement. "How droll!" She leaned out further and called out sharply, "Stop the coach! Stop everything!"

The coachman tugged gently on the reins, and the horses and their cargo came to a slow stop. The marching band and the guards with the copper chest also stopped in their tracks, and the music died instantly.

The herald, oblivious to everything behind him, kept on walking... until one of his companions whistled. The stout man finally stopped, turned, and scrambled back over with an awkward smile.

Princess Chloe exited the coach, being careful not to drag her beautiful dress along the road dirt.

Sabrina, however, stared suspiciously at the old women as she stepped outside. Fortune tellers out in the middle of nowhere? Something didn't feel right.

"Your Majesty," Sabrina whispered into Chloe's ear, keeping her eyes locked on the new arrivals. "I don't trust them. They may be bandits."

"Oh, poppycock," the princess scoffed, also in a low voice. "A couple of old hags? Why, that's utterly _ridiculous_. What next? A bear is actually a prince in disguise?" She snorted and patted her companion on the cheek. "You're such a tease, Sabrina. Don't you want to learn about my fortune?"

Sabrina rubbed her cheek with a frown. _What's there to learn?_ she thought. "What if they demand payment?" she whispered.

Chloe rolled her eyes. "Oh, what's the worry? A gold piece each is more than enough. Besides, if they're from Nottingham, they'll be paying tax on that anyway."

The princess giggled and turned back to the fortune tellers, who curtsied before her. A little more elegantly than older women should, Sabrina noted.

"My dear ladies," Chloe addressed them, holding out her jewelled fingers. "You have my permission to kiss the royal hands, as a blessing from your future queen." She lifted her chin proudly.

Sabrina swore the old ladies' eyes enlarged to the size of apples.

The shorter one inched over and eyed the hand with a single, fat ruby on the princess's middle finger. "Oh, my child, how gracious of you!" she wheezed sweetly, taking Chloe's hand in both of hers – one on top and one on the other.

Again, Sabrina noticed something: the woman's hands. Though they were dry and calloused, they were undoubtably the hands of a young maiden.

But before Sabrina could say anything, the fortune teller hastily drew her top hand away and planted a kiss on Chloe's fingers.

Her _empty_ fingers. The ring was gone!

Sabrina gasped.

"The pleasure is all –" Chloe began.

"Princess! Did you see what she –?"

"Sabrina! Don't interrupt me!" Chloe snapped coldly, glaring at her lady-in-waiting.

At that moment, the taller fortune teller gave Chloe not one, but _three_ quick kisses on her other hand – one for each glittering ring.

When she straightened and cast Sabrina a sly glance, she smiled... revealing three jewels between her teeth!

Sabrina gulped, her heart hammering, and she grabbed frantically onto an unwitting Chloe's sleeve. "D-Did you see?! D-D-D-D-Did you SEE?!"

The princess shrieked and yanked her arm away, red-faced. "You wrinkled my sleeve!" she shouted. "You stupid, suspicious servant! Wait outside the coach!"

Sabrina's breath caught in her throat. "B-B-But...!"

"Out. Side. Sabrina," Chloe growled through gritted teeth, her glare turning frosty.

The redhead hung her head, fighting back her anger and embarrassment. "As you wish, Your Highness," Sabrina said.

So, with one last beady-eyed glare at the fortune tellers, Sabrina stomped away and slipped around the other side of the coach.

If she couldn't warn Chloe about it those gypsies, she'd catch them in the act instead. _Then_ the princess would believe her.

All Sabrina needed to do was be quiet. And patient.

* * *

Princess Chloe sighed and laid a hand on her forehead. "This summer sun is making my head swim." She forced a smile at her guests. "Please, come inside my coach. You can tell me what my future holds."

"Ooh, I'd be delighted, Your Excellency," Ladybug said in her croaky accent. "Such generousness. And from our very own princess too!"

She resisted the urge to gag, but the blunette knew that kissing up to a self-absorbed royal like Chloe would allow her to play her part better.

Ladybug followed the princess into the coach and sat down opposite her, right across from a tiny table.

Whoa! Those cushions were so comfy you could sink right through them!

Readjusting herself, and making sure her disguise didn't slip off, Ladybug pulled the purple curtains together, pitching the interior into darkness.

"Now then," she said, turning to Chloe. "I must ask you to close your eyes."

The princess blinked curiously.

"Concentrate on the future you wish to see," Ladybug emphasized in that wise, old tone. "Come, now. Tight shut. No peeking."

Chloe lifted her chin in a dignifying manner, but she did as she was bid and squeezed her eyes closed.

_Showtime_, Ladybug thought with a grin.

She waved her arms and called out spookily but clearly, "From the mists of time, come forth, spirits of fire and light! Yoo-hoo!" She tried not to giggle.

But nothing happened.

Ladybug glanced nervously at the oblivious Chloe before clearing her throat and singing, "We're waiting!"

_Rena, that means you_, her mind called out into the dark coach.

At that moment, her partner's "crystal ball" popped through the closed curtains, carrying a tiny swarm of fireflies that were so bright, they looked like stars. The ball was tied to a string that couldn't be seen in the dark, and the whole thing dangled from a pole that Rena held outside the carriage.

So, from an unwitting person's perspective, it looked like the ball was flying on the will of some divine power.

Ladybug gasped big. "Look, princess! _Look!_"

Chloe snapped her eyes open, and they went big at the glowing ball floating down towards the table. A hand flew to her heart, and she smiled as though in a trance. "Oh... Incredible," she breathed. "Floating spirits..."

She reached her hand towards the ball... only for Ladybug to smack it away.

The look of appall on Chloe's face made Ladybug burst into laughter. She was having way to much fun with this!

"Oh, no, naughty, naughty," she said between giggles, waving her forefinger back and forth. "You mustn't touch, young lady."

Chloe rubbed her stinging hand with a dirty scowl at Ladybug. "How dare you strike the royal ha–!"

"Shh!" Ladybug leaned forward and put a finger to the princess's lips. "You'll break the spell," she whispered, lowering the ball onto the table. "Just gaze into the crystal ball, and I will tell you what I see."

The princess blinked with surprise. Obviously, no one had dared to _silence_ her as well. But to Ladybug's relief, she was too obsessed with learning her future to bother with the matter any longer.

Ladybug waved her hands again and began chanting in a sing-song voice, "_Oooo-de-lally, Oooo-de-lally_... Oh!" Her face brightened.

Chloe leaned over in anticipation. "What? What do you see?"

Ladybug wiggled her fingers over the sides of the ball, pretending to squint at something inside. "I see... a queen. Yes! A young, beautiful queen, with a golden crown on her noble brow."

Chloe squealed. "Is it me? It's me, isn't it! Oh, how exciting!" She rested her head in her hands. "Carry on."

Ladybug smiled into the glowing ball and said, "She is very regal, majestic, loveable... and with such an adorable face."

Just then, the blunette caught a barely-audible gagging noise behind the curtain.

No doubt Rena Rouge was listening to the whole conversation... and finding it perplexing that Ladybug would be brave enough to actually say those things.

Chloe hummed to herself, "Regal... Majestic... Lovable, yes, yes... Adorable..." She brushed her golden ponytail from her shoulders like a proud queen. "Ah, that's me to a "T"," she sighed.

Ladybug took this opportunity to eyeball the large bag of gold lying nearby. She reached for it...

... only for a hand to shoot through the closed curtain and grab Ladybug's wrist harshly.

She let out a small "Ah!" before she could stop herself.

Luckily, in that exact second, the hand that no doubt belonged to Sabrina released her and was wrenched back with a muffled cry before Chloe noticed.

"_Now_ what?" the princess snapped at Ladybug.

The blunette stopped rubbing her wrist immediately, and sweat beaded down her neck. But she refused to panic.

Ladybug pretended like she was about to feint. "Oh! I... The spirits are calling!" she rambled. "I... I see... your... illustrious name..."

"I _know_ my name!" Chloe snapped with a raised voice, her face scrunched like a lioness baring her teeth over a scrap of meat. "Tell me what I _don't_ know! Get on with it!"

Thankfully, Ladybug had the perfect response – so perfect that it was quite truthful. "Your name will go down in history," she proclaimed, "as one of the most in... _famous_ monarchs of all time!" She hoped the princess wouldn't notice the subtle change of vocabulary.

She didn't. Chloe raised her manicured hands into the air in triumph. "Yes! I knew it! I _knew_ it!" she cheered. "Did you hear that, Sabrina? I'll..." She frowned with distaste. "Oh, bother, she's outside. Don't forget it!" she hollered with a sharp glance at the curtain.

A clearing of the throat. "Will do, Your Highness!" came a sweet, girly voice.

Ladybug smirked. _Rena needs to work on her voice impersonations_, she thought.

Chloe sighed into her cushions. "Ahh... The fruits of being royalty," she mused. She straightened up and looked over at Ladybug again with malefic curiosity. "Perhaps, you could tell me how my... _darling_ older brother will fare in the future?"

Ladybug could tell the blonde snob was hoping for a grim answer. She just offered a smile like a grandmother offering cookies. "But _of course_, my dear. Close your eyes."

Chloe did so with a dark giggle.

Ladybug stood silently and tiptoed around the table and behind the princess.

Then, she grabbed Chloe's head and slammed it down semi-forcefully onto the table.

Chloe bounced back up, cross-eyed and tipsy, before collapsing onto her plush pillows and breaking out into snoring.

Ladybug sighed with relief and ripped the itchy grey wig off her head, freeing her suffocating blue hair.

She stared down at the unconscious princess with a small shake of the head. "Well, she went _down_, that's for sure," she said.

She glanced at Chloe's glamorous blue dress. Then back at the heaping bags of gold. Then back at the dress.

The seeds of a naughty idea sprouted, and Ladybug grinned.

* * *

Rena Rouge was glad she caught Sabrina before the nosy handmaiden ruined the whole plan. All she needed was a tiny rock.

Now, the dainty redhead was sleeping like kitten against the back of the carriage. She would feel a bump on her head once she woke up, but nothing serious.

Rena brushed her hands off and began walking to the front ... until something caught the sunlight in her peripheral vision.

She looked, and was surprised to see that the gleam was coming from the two, round hubcaps holding the coach wheels in place. Curious, Rena flicked a finger against one of them. It gave off a tiny, metallic chime.

Rena huffed a silent laugh. "Well, whaddaya know?" she murmured to herself. "Solid _gold_ hubcaps."

That gave the sly outlaw a clever idea.

Checking over her shoulders, Rena casually stepped in front of the back wheel, keeping her back to it. Then, with a quick reach behind her and a squeaky twist, she unscrewed the hubcap. Rena then walked over to the front wheel and did the same, looking innocent the whole time.

Rena unfurled her burlap shawl-sack and popped her two treasures in. She _could_ go for the two wheels on the other side, but half of the carriage was more than enough. Besides, it would give Her Short-Temperedness something to think about once Ladybug and Rena made their quick getaway.

But one thing among the royal parade was still waiting to be robbed: the copper chest. The _jackpot_.

Rena knew she could easily slip underneath the noses of the stone-faced guards, cut a hole into the bottom of the chest with the dagger Ladybug had given her, and collect all the gold in her sack. But Rena knew would be too exposed once she was finished, and a heavy bag of coins would weigh her down if she tried to scurry away.

So she decided on a more... _delicate_ tactic.

Securing her bag back over her shoulders, Rena ran over to the guards, waving her arms. "Oh, my heavens! Someone help!" she pleaded in her croaky voice. "The lady's fainted! Over by the coach! Please, someone help the poor girl!"

The guards turned their heads, and then looked at each other. Without a word, they lowered the huge chest onto the ground.

Three guards rushed over to the carriage, but one – an older gentlemen with some grey stubble – stayed behind.

_Well, three out of four ain't bad_, Rena thought. She would have to be quick with this one.

Luckily, all soldiers, no matter how old, shared one thing in common: their adoration of women.

Rena walked over to the lone guard, swaying her hips and batting her eyelashes.

He grinned wide and gave her a two-note whistle.

Rena giggled behind her hand before slinking up to the sturdy old soldier. She tapped her two fingers on his uniformed chest, walked them up to his chin...

... and slugged him square in the jaw.

The soldier plummeted onto the soft earth with a small grunt.

Rena rolled her eyes with disgust. _Men_. Then, she got straight to work.

It wasn't long before she was racing back to the carriage with her stolen bag of loot, grinning like a drunken fool.

That is, until she bumped right into a someone wearing a royal blue gown.

Both women fell onto their backs, spilling gold coins everywhere from both their bags.

Rena's wig and bandana fell clean off in the collision, and her auburn hair spilled out past her shoulders.

When she looked up at who she collided with, she frowned. "What took you so long?" she hissed.

Ladybug shrugged awkwardly, indicating to her new dress – _Chloe's_ dress. Her makeup had been smeared off earlier, so now the blue-haired outlaw looked like a beautiful princess.

"You know me – I can't resist lovely fabrics," Ladybug whispered, gathering as much of the spilled gold as she could back into her large, rose-pink bundle.

_Her fortune teller dress_, Rena realized with intrigue. _Clever_. The redhead then helped her partner collect the rest of coins.

The hard part was over. Now came the fun part.

* * *

"Ughhh... Why do I have such a _splitting_ headache?" Princess Chloe groaned sluggishly.

She rubbed her forehead as she sat up and looked around.

It was still dark inside the coach, but the old fortune teller was gone. The crystal ball was lying on its side on the floor, open on one side, and tiny little lights were buzzing around everywhere.

Wait... Those weren't lights. They were... _fireflies?_

And... "Where is my gold?" Chloe said aloud, finally noticing the bare, carpeted floor. Even her cushions were gone! The only thing left was her large hand-mirror, lying on the table.

Panic and confusion crunched together in the princess's chest. Was this all some kind of a joke?

"Sabrina?" Chloe called out irritably as she stomped over to the curtains and ripped them apart. "Is this _your_ doing?"

Two people were standing on the road in front her – two women; young and in their late teens, by the looks of them. Neither of them were Sabrina.

They looked up at the princess with defiant grins; one with eyes like fire and hair like red-streaked maroon, the other with eyes like the sea on a clear day and shimmery locks of midnight-blue.

It wasn't until Chloe saw the dress on the blunette when her eyes widened with horror.

_That dress... _MY_ dress!_

The temperature in Chloe's cheeks rose several degrees, and she looked down at herself.

She shrieked when she saw that she wore only her white, frilly-sleeved chemise and matching, short trousers. She covered herself up her arms and stomach, even though she knew that wouldn't do anything.

The blunette smiled amusedly at the princess and spoke in a younger, more melodic voice, "Looks like your _fortune's_ run out, Your Highness."

Chloe wasn't sure how she figured it out then. Maybe she had seen a wanted poster somewhere, or that Duke of Hodcot had been descriptive of the outlaw who had robbed him.

All she knew at that precise moment – glaring with immense hatred into those cool-blue eyes – was that _this_ was the girl everyone talked about. The traitorous peasant. The scheming "witch of the woods".

_Ladybug._

With a final curtsy to the princess, the notorious rogue and her partner took off down the road with their two bulging bags.

_My gold!_

Only then did Chloe scream, "ROBBED! I've been _robbed!_" She glanced around feverishly. "_Sabrina!_ You're never around when I need you!"

A low groan sounded from the the right, near the back of the coach.

Then, Sabrina waddled over to Chloe, rubbing the back of her head. Her hair was a bit frazzled, but she smoothed it down quickly and came up to the princess.

Only then did Sabrina notice Chloe standing there in her undergarments. The lady-in-waiting frowned with mortification and folded her arms.

Chloe pouted, embarrassed to be seen in her frail state. "I've been robbed," she whined like a child.

"_Of course_ you've been robbed!" Sabrina spat, pointing in the direction of the thieves. "And now you're letting them get away!"

Chloe peered over.

As the two girls sprinted away, the blunette wearing her dress cheered, "Oo-de-lally!"

The taller one waved back at the astounded soldiers, including their fallen friend. "Fortune's forecast! Lucky charms!" she called playfully.

The old guard, who was coming back to his senses, stared in amazement at the redhead. Then, he sighed happily and waved back.

Chloe made a furious choking noise. _What are these idiots waiting for?!_ "After them, you fools!" she ordered.

The musicians and the troops immediately sprang to attention, lifted their weapons (or instruments) and chased after the two thieves.

As soon as Sabrina climbed back into the carriage, the coachman whipped his reins, and the four white stallions broke into a furious charge.

They hadn't gone more than twenty feet when the carriage suddenly jerked sideways.

The princess saw the two wheels on the right popping off before she and Sabrina fell out the open window with mixed screams.

Chloe tried to hang onto one of the curtains, but it ripped right off. She hit the ground and rolled onto her stomach... right in a puddle of mud and rainwater.

Spitting out the nasty earthy concoction, Chloe rose onto her knees, wincing from the pain of the fall. Then, she gasped at how utterly filthy and wet she was. Her hair was sloppy and streaked with brown, and her white undergarments were now the colour of wet sand.

Sabrina was no better. Her whole dress was soaked, there were dirt marks streaking down her face, and her hair was spiked up with mud.

Chloe looked up, only to see her carriage resting on its right side. Her mirror was lying beside her – the last thing she had left from the heist.

Her dress. Her gold. Her coach. Everything else had been taken from her! And a couple of wretched, low-life peasants had done it!

No... _Ladybug_ had done it!

Chloe howled. In her fury, she pounded her fists in the puddle, splashing water everywhere. "No, no, no, NO!" she hollered, tears cutting through the dirt caked on her cheeks. "It's not fair! I've never been so... so... AAAHHH!" She slammed her fists again.

Sabrina lifted up into a sitting position and brushed herself off. In this rare moment of courage, she forgot her courtesies and glared at Chloe. "I knew it! I just _knew_ this would happen! I knew those two girls were trouble! I tried to warn you, but no, no, no! You wouldn't listen! You just _had_ to go and let them walk right into your –!"

Chloe didn't know what came over her, or even what she was doing.

But as Sabrina rambled on, a burning anger ignited in the princess's veins, and she reached for her mirror before brandishing it over her head like a sword.

Sabrina stopped talking the moment she saw Chloe's twisted face. And the mirror. "Ah, Ah! AH!" she cried, shrinking away while lifting her hands. "Seven year's bad –!"

The mirror came down, but the maidservant veered out of the way in the nick of time.

_CRASH!_

The glass shattered into jagged pieces on the ground, and Chloe – realizing she missed – dropped the mirror with a grunt.

"... luck," Sabrina squeaked, her eyes wide as she beheld the mess of broken shards. Her head sank into her shoulders as she gazed over at Chloe with pity. "And that was your _mother's_ mirror you just broke."

Chloe's face fell, and then she burst into tears again. "Ah...! Mommy!" she bawled. She stuck her thumb in her mouth again, only to spit it out with disgust. "Oh," she whimpered. "I have a dirty thumb."

Sabrina let out a sigh to the heavens that said, _Why me?_


	4. The Baker’s Daughter

CHAPTER FOUR:

THE BAKER'S DAUGHTER

_I believe this is a good place to stop and take a deeper look into the beginnings of Ladybug's story._

_For there was a time, not so very long ago, when the famous outlaw was just an ordinary girl with ordinary dreams. A time when she was not a hero, but a civilian who had everything she ever needed._

_Until what she had was taken away from her piece by piece..._

* * *

The Harvest Festival in Nottingham was Marinette's favourite holiday.

The paper lanterns and banners were strung up along the houses, bringing light and colour to the town even as night fell. The autumn leaves littered the cobblestone streets, and children kicked them up into the air as they walked. The main square was lined with stalls filled with food and games for everyone to enjoy.

And the best part? It was all free!

Being a baker's daughter, the seven-year-old Marinette loved dishing out sweets and goodies just as much as she loved tasting them. Her freckled face would always light up whenever a customer took a bite of her miniature apple pies. She had made them herself (with Papa's help, of course).

Tom the Baker was well-known and well-loved in Nottingham. Everyone came over to eat his food, even Otis the grumpy old blacksmith and his fiery-haired daughter Alya. The two young girls would play together all the time and sneak extra treats from the bakery when Marinette's father wasn't looking.

There was also Friar Fu, the gentle, slightly-bald priest who always made Marinette laugh whenever he came to visit. He brought his special honey cider for the festival, made from the bees of the hive he kept in his own garden by Nottinghill Church. He and Tom were close like brothers, so he became something of an uncle to little Marinette.

Tom loved his daughter with all his heart, and he wanted her to live a happy life. After the sudden passing of his beloved wife a couple years prior, the only thing that brought the old baker joy – aside from baking, of course – was Marinette.

So when she said she wanted to try archery at the festival this year, Tom agreed with a slight twitch of his big brown moustache – a sign Marinette knew that reminded her of the trouble she would be in if she abused her freedom.

The little blunette was practically itching with excitement, standing in line to receive her first bow.

The archery stall was set up near the large oak tree in the courtyard, with four round targets lined up several metres away from the starting line. Each competitor was given five chances to shoot at the targets. If you got three or more out of five, you received your very own bow as a prize.

When it was Marinette's turn, and the instructor handed her an elegant, child-size bow made of swirling wood, the little blunette's heart became all bubbly, like cake mix baking in the oven.

Marinette joined two other kids as the instructor guided them through the basics: the proper stance, the finger placement, the drawing of the bow, the anchoring, the release, and the follow-through. Marinette tried to mimic the archer's movements as she listened, but more often than not, her arrow kept falling off. This was a lot more complicated than she thought.

Finally, it was time for the shots.

Marinette decided to watch the others go first.

The boy beside her – slightly older than her and with tousled, golden hair – drew his arrow back like he had done this in his sleep. When he fired his shot, the arrow hit the third ring in. Many people clapped. Then the boy readied his next arrow, his green eyes gleaming like a cat on the prowl.

When the instructor called on Marinette, she suddenly wanted to curl up into a ball and hide. Lots of eyes were upon her, and her hands were shaking. She couldn't remember the instructions anymore. How was she supposed to lift her bow again?

Marinette pulled back a little too hard on the string, and it was straining her arm something fierce.

Suddenly, the string slipped and snapped with a hard _TWANG!_ Marinette stumbled back with a cry, and her arrow when flying right over the target.

The onlookers snickered from the sidelines, except for Alya.

"Come on, Mari!" the little redhead cheered, her amber eyes urging her friend to keep trying. "Don't listen to them! Try again!"

Marinette's lip quivered, and she felt the tears coming. _I can't do this_, she thought. What was she thinking, trying her hand at something as hard as archery? All she was doing was making a fool of herself.

At that moment, Marinette felt a gentle hand on her shoulder.

She looked to her left.

It was the boy with the golden hair. His eyes were a bright shade of green, like the leaves of Sherwood Forest on a warm, summer day. His smile was equally as warm.

"Don't give up," he said with optimism. "Here, I'll help you."

Marinette suddenly forgot all about being sad or embarrassed, and she barely managed to speak, "Oh... O-Okay."

The boy moved closer to stand right behind her. "Don't focus on your arrow so much," he said kindly as Marinette readied her second arrow. "Keep your eyes locked on the target. When you pull back the arrow, do it gently until you feel a slight resistance on the string. That's when you stop and aim."

Marinette followed his directions verbatim. Strangely enough, the boy's presence eased the tension in her stomach. She ignored everyone else around her, focusing only on _his_ voice.

Once she was ready to shoot, the boy nodded and continued, "Close your left eye. Focus with your right."

Marinette did so. Huh... She could _actually_ see the target better.

"Now take a deep breath, and hold it in."

Marinette obeyed.

"Tilt your bow up a bit." The boy gently lifted her arm a smidge. "Think of your shot as an arc – let the arrow _fall_ to your target."

Marinette's open bluebell eye narrowed. _An arc... An arc..._

The boy let go and stepped back. "Okay. Whenever you're ready."

Marinette fired.

The arrow hit the top of the target in the second ring.

Alya and the crowd cheered.

Marinette's arm sagged against her, and she loosed a breath of delight.

"Yeah! You did it!" the boy cheered, jumping up and down.

Marinette found herself jumping with him. "I wanna do it again!" she squealed.

The boy laughed, but it was a good kind of laugh – a playful challenge. "All right. Let's both take a shot. Together."

_Together..._ Marinette's cheeks turned rosy.

Marinette got the next shot, but missed the other two. Her new partner got four out of five, so he got the prize.

But when they both exited the stall and joined Alya in the open, the boy extended the tiny, black bow to Marinette. "You take it," he insisted. "That way, you can beat me _next_ year."

Marinette stared at him, utterly flabbergasted. "But... _you're_ the winner. It's _your_ bow."

The boy shook his head, his golden hair sweeping over his eyes. "I practice archery everyday. I already _have_ a bow – in fact, I have _several_. I don't need another one."

Marinette blinked. _He has several bows back home? I wonder what his family does for a living._ "Then how come you played in the competition?" she asked.

The boy shrugged. "I just wanted to have some fun for a change. And I did. I got to meet _you_."

Marinette's heart fluttered.

"Aww..." Alya murmured, clutching her hands together.

The boy took Marinette's tiny hand in his, and he placed the bow in her open palm. Then, the boy looked up at her with a confident grin. "Trust me. You'll get better. And when you do, you'll be the greatest archer in all of Nottingham. No, wait... all of _England!_"

Marinette giggled, her surprise melting into warm happiness. "Thank you... but even _I_ could never be _that_ good."

"You might surprise yourself," the boy said. He held out his hand again. "My name's Adrien. What's yours?"

The baker's daughter gave him a bright smile and shook his hand. "Marinette."

"I'm Alya," the redhead said when it was her turn. "So... Anyone up for a pie?"

And so, Marinette and Alya spent the rest of the evening enjoying the thrills of the festival with their new friend Adrien. They feasted on miniature pies and candied apples, tripped over each other in the sack race, played hide-and-seek in the pumpkin patch, and danced together while the musicians played a lively jig.

Marinette knew most of the children in Nottingham, but she had never met anyone like Adrien before. In fact, she couldn't recall ever seeing him at all before tonight. Was he new here? Was he just visiting? She kept wanting to ask, but she was having too much fun.

So was Adrien. Every time he smiled or laughed, Marinette would get all buttery inside. He was funny, obnoxious, and competitive. But he was also caring, supportive, and thoughtful. Soon, Marinette found herself smiling and laughing with him.

That is... until the sharp, agitated voice of a woman cut through the air a few hours later: "Sir Adrien!"

The boy tensed, and fear creased his brow. "Oh, no..." he moaned.

Marinette and Alya were startled to see a tall, gaunt woman striding over to them.

She wore a fancy red dress with frilly sleeves, and her black hair was done up in a tight bun. She looked like a noblewoman. She certainly carried herself like one. And she... well, she didn't look very happy.

The woman stopped a few feet away and pointed a sharp finger at her feet. "Come here at once, young man," she commanded coldly. "Lord Gabriel will be furious if he learns you snuck out of the castle again."

Marinette's head pin-wheeled. Lord Gabriel? Castle? And that woman had called Adrien "Sir".

The little blunette glanced at her new friend with wide-eyed shock. Alya did the same, her jaw dropping.

Adrien turned to the woman pleadingly. "But Nathalie, it's the Harvest Festival. And we're having so much fun!"

The woman's mouth twisted into a frown that made both children cringe. "Well, I promise you won't be having any "fun" while you're reciting all the conditions and restrictions of proper English etiquette. _To the letter_." She pointed at her foot again impatiently.

Adrien groaned in defeat, and the look he gave Marinette and Alya was one of pure regret. "I... I'm sorry. I have to go home now."

There was so much Marinette wanted to say to him then: _Who is that woman? Who is Lord Gabriel? Why do you have to leave?_

_Who are you really?_

Alas, the sight of seeing a disheartened Adrien walking over to the stern woman and letting her drag him down the street... It made Marinette's heart sink, and her voice lost its strength.

Alya huffed with a frown. "What was _that_ all about?" she grumbled.

Marinette clenched her hand, realizing she still carried the bow Adrien gave her. She took a long look at it before staring back up at her new friend's shrinking form.

Perhaps, it was at that precise moment of helplessness; that moment of seeing a good soul being denied what made him happy, when Ladybug began to appear in that little girl's heart.

* * *

**_Four Nights Later..._**

Adrien was up late in the castle courtyard, practicing with his wooden staff when he should be getting ready for bed.

It wasn't long before he heard a noise from the nearby thicket of trees: a loud rustling of leaves followed by cracking branches.

Adrien froze before snapping around, staring into the darkness. He often liked to pretend that this forest was Sherwood Forest, and he was the fearless hunter rescuing damsels from bandits or wild beasts.

But this time, the ten-year-old boy felt like a frightened rabbit being stalked by a wolf.

Someone was _here_, inside the castle walls! But those walls were three stories high! How did the intruder get in here?

Adrien knew he should have yelled for the guards, or ran to get Nathalie or Father.

Instead, he gripped his staff tightly and stepped into the shadowy canopy of trees. "Who... Who's there?" he called, unable to hide the shakiness of his voice.

"Adrien?" came a soft, high-pitched whisper from above. "Is that _you?_"

The boy reeled with surprise... and looked up.

There she was: a tiny girl in a dirty red cloak, hanging upside down from one of the branches. Her bow was secured in a small quiver on her back, along with three arrows.

The moment the girl saw Adrien's face, she smiled up at him (or rather, _down_ at him) awkwardly. "Little help?" she squeaked.

"_Marinette?!_" Adrien breathed, his voice hitching.

His first thought was, _What is she doing here?!_

His second thought was, _I thought I'd never see her again._

Adrien glanced quickly over his shoulder before dropping his staff and climbing the tree to help his blue-haired friend down onto the soft grass.

She was definitely filthy, and her hair was wild and all over the place. Bits of leaves and twigs were plastered all over her skin and clothes, and dirt stains peppered her strawberry-red cloak. But she looked utterly pleased with herself.

Adrien, on the other hand, was utterly dumbstruck. "How did you get over the wall?!" he whispered.

"There's ivy all over them," Marinette replied, as though it were obvious. "So I climbed."

Adrien's eyes softened with something like amazement. "And you... You weren't afraid?"

"Well... just a little," Marinette admitted, "but at least I made it!" She brushed herself off, only to stop when she saw the state of her cloak. "Oh, no! It's ruined!" Her bluebell eyes went all sad and glossy in a heartbeat. "My Mama... she made it just for me." She hung her head, and the corners of her lips dipped with reawakened grief.

In that instant, Adrien didn't care that a peasant girl had snuck into home of his father, the cold and stern Lord Gabriel of Agreste.

He didn't care that Marinette wasn't supposed to be here, and that she would be punished severely by the guards if she were to be caught.

All Adrien cared about was that his friend – his first, _real_ friend – was sad, and he wanted her to smile again.

"I don't mind the spots," Adrien said perkily, looking at the cloak up and down. "It reminds me of... a _ladybug_. I like ladybugs."

Marinette's expression was blank for a brief second when she looked up at him. Then, she gave Adrien the smile he was hoping for.

"You're really sweet, Adrien," she told him.

The boy grinned and rubbed the back of his head. "And _you_ are the bravest girl I've ever met," he said.

Her pale cheeks, even in the moonlight, deepened with a hint of purple. But her eyes still sparkled.

It was then that Adrien decided that Marinette the baker's daughter was also the most _beautiful_ girl he had ever met.

And he loved this girl.

* * *

**_Seven Years Later..._**

His letter asked her to come with haste to their special place.

Marinette wasted no time. The grey sky had brought a torrential downpour, but the fourteen-year-old baker's daughter didn't care. She slipped on the threadbare brown robe – a _monk's_ robe, courtesy of Friar Fu – and raced to Nottingham Castle.

Since it was daytime, climbing over the wall was out of the question. The gate guards only let in visitors on Lord Gabriel's orders, but monks of the Church were always welcome.

So when Marinette trudged up to the soldiers, requesting shelter from the storm, they let her pass without question. She kept her hood down and her voice low to make the men think she was a boy.

Once she was inside, Marinette slipped unnoticed into the courtyard with the forest.

There he was, pacing in front of their special place: the tree with a heart carved into the bark, carrying initials "A and M" with a pair of crossed arrows underneath. This was the tree Marinette had fallen into on the first night she had snuck over the castle's walls.

The moment he heard her footsteps in the sloshing grass, Adrien turned. He wore a black cloak and hood, which really did nothing to shield him from the rain. His golden hair gleamed wet, and there were droplets on his sharp chin and eyelashes. He held a single, red rose in his hand.

Marinette smiled. Even when soaked and miserable, the seventeen-year-old lordling was still breathtakingly handsome.

Adrien grinned and ran forward, taking her in his arms. "Milady," he breathed, using the moniker he had given her many years ago. "I'm so glad you came."

Marinette shivered in his embrace, but she didn't pull away. She sighed when he breathed hot air against her neck, and she planted a kiss on his cheek.

There were so many moments in the last few years – so many hugs and hand-holdings and small kisses done in secret.Yet none of them could compare to _this_ moment, when Sir Adrien held his beloved like it was the last time.

Marinette had no idea how truthful that was, until Adrien finally looked into her eyes... and told her that he was leaving Nottingham.

She stepped away, unsure she heard him right. "What... What do you mean?" she said shakily, and it wasn't from the chill of the rain. "Adrien, what's going on?"

He ran a hand through his sopping hair with the saddest gaze Marinette had ever seen him give her. "My father is leaving for London tomorrow, to join King Felix's council of nobles," Adrien explained, "and he wants me to go with him. I've tried and tried again to talk my way out of it, but... he says this is an important moment for our family; a chance for us to rise up in the ranks." Adrien shook his head bitterly and looked away, placing his free hand on his hips. "But I know better. He wants to find me a suitable wife among the women of the royal court. Nathalie even hinted at my cousin, Princess Chloe."

Marinette stared at him, listening with a tight numbness in her throat. "How..." She tried again. "How long will you be gone?"

Adrien hung his head down, still not looking at her, as though the truth made him feel wretched and hideous to look at. "I don't know," he replied at last. "Years, I suspect."

_Patter-patter-patter... Drip, drop, drip..._ The storm was all that was heard in the air of melancholic silence.

Marinette didn't so much as breathe. Or move. Or speak.

Years. In London.

London wouldn't be so far away, but... to not have Adrien here for _years_. To not go sneaking out into Nottingham with him and Alya, disguising Adrien as a peasant. To not hone her archery skills with him in Sherwood Forest until they were both stiff and sore. To not help him donate food and clothing to the poor during those cold winter months. To not spend peaceful summer nights lying with him under the stars, making wishes and seeing which of them could keep it a secret the longest. Adrien had always cheated by tickling Marinette until she begged for mercy.

To not hold him in her arms and kiss him. To not love him.

Marinette gasped for breath, shaking herself out of her stupor. "Years..." she repeated, her tears mixing with the rain.

Suddenly, Adrien was holding her in his arms again. Stronger. Fiercer. When he inched back, he dropped to one knee before Marinette, holding out the glistening rose.

She inhaled deeply at the gesture, a hand on her heart.

"Come with me, Marinette," Adrien said boldly. "Come with me to London. You can go to Felix's court, say that you're a distant cousin or something. People pretend to be nobles anyway – no one will know!"

It was so absurd; so good to be true.

Marinette almost laughed as she pulled away, giving her childhood love a pitiful smile. "Oh, Adrien, I can't," she said. "I can't leave Papa, or Nottingham..."

"Then I'm staying," Adrien asserted, his green eyes darkening with resolve. "I don't care what Father says or does." He got back to his feet and placed a gentle, wet hand on Marinette's wet cheek. "I'm not leaving you, Milady."

For a brief moment, Marinette thought they could do it. They could run away together. They could hide out in Friar Fu's church, or go live in Sherwood Forest. Tom and Alya could come and visit, bringing breads and pastries. Marinette and Adrien would build their own house in the treetops, where they could always be close to the stars.

But the eerie chill in Marinette's bones brought her back to reality. Life was not a fairytale. She was a baker's daughter, and Adrien was a nobleman's son – destined to inherit lands and wealth and servants. Nobles didn't marry peasants.

Marinette's heart threatened to cave, but she willed herself to be strong. For Adrien's sake.

She shook her head again, her eyes firm. "Adrien," she said, "you have a duty to uphold to your people; to your kingdom. You can't throw all that away for me. _Especially_ not for me."

Adrien blinked at her, his face the picture of broken-hearted confusion.

Marinette took his hands in hers. They were astoundingly cold. "You are a good person, and you will be a great lord someday." She swallowed hard and smiled. "Maybe even a _king_."

"I don't _want_ to be king," Adrien said immediately.

"Then _don't_. Become someone better; someone the people can look up to with courage and hope in their eyes." Marinette sniffled and wiped her nose. She wouldn't let Adrien see her break down, not when she needed him to be brave. "Bring happiness to others. Marry and have children. End hunger. Lead a revolution. I don't care!" She took a deep breath to steady herself. "Just promise me that no matter what you do, you'll be _brilliant_ at it. Most importantly, you'll never stop being _you_."

The pain in Adrien's green eyes turned to astonishment. His teeth chattered, but he managed to clamp them down. "Milady, I..." he began.

Marinette put her fingers to his lips, fighting back the burning in her eyes. "Shh..." She wouldn't let him say it, otherwise it would be their undoing.

So she told him _this_ instead: "I am a baker's daughter. I can never have that kind of life. But _you_ can." Marinette moved her hand to rest upon his cheek, and she never once wavered from his gaze. "Don't waste it. Please, Adrien – promise me you'll do this, and I'll never forget you. And maybe someday, if God wills it so, we _will_ see each other again. But until then, we must return to who we are, and who we need to be."

Adrien's hand found hers, and he clasped it with such tenderness that it made Marinette's tears come forth anyway. Adrien smiled sadly and wiped them away, caressing her face. He was so close to her now. Just one step forward, and they would be kissing.

No. Marinette knew she shouldn't do that to him. She wouldn't give him a reason to stay, even if it broke her heart.

Adrien must have read the message in her eyes, because he dipped his head down in a respectable nod. But this time, his smile was genuine and warm.

"I promise, Milady," he said softly. "Your friendship and devotion means everything to me. And I promise you... We _will_ see each other again."

He extended the rose to her again, and this time she took it. The water droplets stood out so brightly against the red petals.

Then, Adrien kissed Marinette softly on the cheek, and she swore there was a scorch mark there now.

"Keep the rose," Adrien said with a sly wink. "Red's always been your colour."

Marinette stood there in the rain, blushing, and watched as her beloved pulled his black hood further down his head and walked away.

She stared after him even when he vanished into the castle. She expected herself to cry; to fall to her knees and weep over letting him walk away so easily. But she didn't.

Instead, his last hopeful words made her grin, and she kissed the rose petals gently. "Silly Kitty," she sighed.

It was probably a fool's hope, but it was better than nothing.

* * *

It wasn't long after Sir Adrien left Nottingham when King Felix left England on his holy crusade.

Almost immediately, Princess Chloe spread her ruthless tax collectors across the kingdom.

In the span of only a few months, Nottingham collapsed into fear and despair under the authority of Sheriff Roger, shrivelling like a flower without water. The peasants were forced to work longer and harder, and even then, it was hard to pay off their taxes while still putting bread on the table.

The poor suffered the worst, and little by little, their numbers grew. Not even the humanitarian efforts of Friar Fu could ease the rising tide.

Tom the Baker tried his absolute best to keep up with his quota, but Roger seemed to pick on him the most – bursting into his bakery and taking whatever coin Tom had.

By that point, Marinette would not stand to watch her father be bullied by the greedy Sheriff.

So one night, when the patrols had passed and the town was sleeping like the dead, Marinette performed her first heist.

It was a simple breaking-and-entering: slipping into the Sheriff's house, dressing up as a serving maid, swiping the keys from a guard after "precariously" bumping into him, and unlocking the large chest in Roger's office.

There was so much gold, but Marinette had only brought one small bag. She barely finished sealing the chest when she heard the Sheriff's thumping footsteps outside the door. Marinette leapt back out the window before he saw her, landing safely in a hay wagon.

When she presented her father with the bag of gold coins, Tom was beside himself with shock and worry. "The Sheriff holds all the power now, Marinette!" he stated, his moustache stiffening. "You can't just go into his chest and steal his coin!"

"It's not _his_ coin, Papa – it's _ours_!" Marinette retorted bravely. "Men like the Sheriff have no place taking from us, and neither does that Princess Chloe!"

Tom placed his broad, dough-kneading hands on his daughter's shoulders. "Maybe they don't," he said more softly, "but they don't care. They hold all the power here, Marinette. They will take what they want, and they will punish anyone who gets in their way." He pulled her into a compressing hug. "And I, for one, don't want to see my only child be executed."

Marinette swallowed at that. She hadn't thought at all about the consequences of her actions; what it would do to her father if she were to be caught.

So she decided to stop stealing. Furthermore, Tom told her to distribute the stolen gold among everyone else in Nottingham. Marinette agreed.

It was worth it. Even if they only got one gold coin, the poor people looked up at Marinette like she was a godsend. "Bless you, child," they would say with tears in their eyes. "You're our hero!"

Even Alya was impressed, if not annoyed that her best friend had pulled off a heist without her. "Maybe next time, bring along someone who knows how a locking mechanism works," Alya said with a wink. "Just saying."

Marinette was never one to fall victim to pride or admiration. But seeing those smiles on the villagers' faces; seeing the spark of hope rekindle in their hearts made Marinette realize that her people's happiness was the richest reward of all.

But then, that next fateful winter, her own happiness shattered.

Tom took to bed with a nasty fever. It started to lessen after a couple days, and the baker looked able enough to get back to work on the third morning. However, he barely took two steps out of bed before he collapsed without warning, shivering violently. Marinette ran out into the street, screaming for help.

Friar Fu came that afternoon, and he diagnosed the problem. He called it the "shivers", a rare winter sickness in which the human body refused to deliver enough heat to the blood.

Both Marinette and the Friar did everything they could for Tom: they fed him hot soup and herbal medicines, and covered him with quilts upon quilts. Alya came over to help manage the bakery and keep Marinette company.

But Tom never stopped shivering, and he kept drifting in and out of consciousness.

Marinette stayed by his bedside the whole time, leaving only to bring Friar Fu fresh snow to melt into water. She refused to sleep, fearing that if she woke up, her father would not.

But Marinette knew the inevitable was coming; she had seen death and disease take many friends, young and old. She just never imagined the same would happen to her father, and all too soon.

On that final night, when the shivers were starting to run its course, Tom was awake enough to ask one final request of his beloved daughter. Surprisingly, he wasn't shivering as much anymore.

"Whatever you decide to do..." Tom croaked as Marinette grasped his hand tight, "don't do it... for yourself. Give to others... Give them happiness... Hush now, my girl... You've wept enough for your old man. Be brave... be strong... and be happy..."

The next morning, Tom the Baker finally drifted into a peaceful sleep.

He was laid to rest in the cemetery by Nottinghill Church, with most of the townsfolk attending.

That same day, Sheriff Roger seized Tom's bakery and all its monetary funds on behalf of Princess Chloe. The rumour was that he tried to seize Marinette too, but she escaped and fled into Sherwood Forest.

A few days later, Alya the blacksmith's daughter vanished into those dark woods as well.

No one saw either of the two girls again for the rest of that cruel winter.

Until one night...

* * *

Spring finally came in full-bloom in Nottingham.

Once the roads and streets were clear of snow and slush, Sheriff Roger ordered all of the recently-collected taxes into a wagon to be sent off to Princess Chloe in London.

The convoy was escorted by six guards: two driving the wagon, two marching up front, and two in the back. They led the covered wagon into Sherwood Forest under cover of night.

They were nearly halfway through when they spotted a lone figure standing in the middle of the road ahead of them.

The captain ordered the convoy to stop, and he stepped towards the stranger. "Stand aside, peasant, by order of the princess."

The figure refused to turn around, and his face was concealed by a dark hood. "No one shall pass," he said in a booming voice, "unless they can solve my riddle."

The captain rolled his eyes agitatedly. "Are you deaf?" he snapped. "We are on an urgent business on behalf of Her Royal Highness. Move aside, or I'll have you shot!"

"Here is my riddle," the stranger said, ignoring the captain's words. "What has twelve legs and isn't going anywhere?"

Only then did the hooded figure turn around.

The captain's eyes went hysterical when he saw her face, her bow, and her red cloak with black polka dots. "What is the meaning of this nonsense?" he chortled. "You're just a girl!"

She smirked at him, her blue eyes bright even in the dark. "Wrong answer," she said before giving a shrill whistle.

Something flew out of the treetops and landed in a crouch on top of the wagon, startling the guards up front.

The captain spun around, perplexed to see another hooded lady grinning at him, her eyes burning like gold in the light of a nearby lantern.

"And my _name_..." the red-hooded girl said, "is Ladybug."

The captain turned, reaching for his sword... but then a blinding pain filled his head, followed by blackness.

When he came to, sunlight streaked through the green canopy.

The captain winced from a welt on his head. He sat up, only to realize that he was lying on the middle of the road with the rest of his companions.

Worse still, the girl – no, _Ladybug_ – and her partner were gone... and so was the wagon!

* * *

_And so it was that the caring, generous baker's daughter became the fierce, dedicated, red-hooded outlaw._

_Over the next four years, the elusive rogue and her foxy friend kept on robbing the rich to feed the poor. Their latest heist, of course, was robbing the royal coach on King's Highway._

_Even when the humiliated Princess Chloe offered a huge reward for Ladybug's capture, the poor folks of Nottingham refused to hand her or Rena Rouge to the soldiers. For they still saw Ladybug as Marinette _– _one of their own. She was the people's hero, fighting to give them back their happiness and freedom._

_And like all heroes, Ladybug and Rena Rouge's good deeds would inspire others to become their own kind of hero._

* * *

**LXP: The scene in the forest was inspired by the robbery from the 2010 live-action film _Robin Hood_. I borrowed the "shivers" sickness idea from the novel _Fire and Blood_ by George R. R. Martin. I do not own any of the above.**

**All right, back to the original story!**


	5. Give and Take

CHAPTER FIVE:

GIVE AND TAKE

Morning in Nottingham brought the happy twitter of birds on the rooftops. Not a single cloud was to be seen in the brightening sky.

Friar Fu considered that a good omen as he slipped out of Nottinghill Church like a man who didn't want to be followed.

He had finished with his morning prayers earlier and asked Ivan, one of his young acolytes, to ring the bell for him while he took a stroll into town. Behind the priest, the proud chimes rang like a proclamation from God... perhaps with a little too much enthusiasm.

Friar Fu grinned. Sometimes too much enthusiasm was a good thing, especially during these bleak times.

There once was a time when the Friar had a skip in his step whenever he visited the locals. Everyone was always happy to see him, and they welcomed the new day with a smile on their faces.

But that was _before_ Princess Chloe took control of her brother's kingdom; before she taxed the people of Nottingham so heavily, they forgot what it was like to smile. They tried their best to keep their hopes up whenever Friar Fu came by, but it was always an effort.

As he passed the town square, Friar Fu saw an old woman feeding spoonfuls of soup to her husband, who was chained into one of the stocks littering the green courtyard. Two other men were hunched over in those contraptions as well, with a sign over their heads that read, "Tax Dodgers".

All of this troubled Friar Fu greatly. He wanted to see the stocks empty for a change. He wanted the courtyard to be a place of laughter and life, not misery and shame.

Well, one old man couldn't do much for an entire town. But maybe one young _girl_ could.

That same girl was the reason why Friar Fu was hastening down the street this morning.

Friar Fu checked over his shoulder, his grey-bearded chin firm. One always had to be careful here in Nottingham. That scoundrel Sheriff Roger and his dimwitted cohorts were always keeping their eyes and ears open for their next catch.

Once he was assured he wasn't being followed, Friar Fu continued on his merry way until he entered the local forge.

Otis the Blacksmith was already hard at work, pounding a gleaming-hot rod onto the anvil with his trusty hammer. Sweat coated his dark skin, and his brown beard stuck out in all directions. Strong and muscular as he was, Otis was still old and worn out. To make matters worse, he was a cripple. He broke his ankle earlier that spring when he fell into a mud ditch while pushing a wheelbarrow of wood. Now Otis had to limp around on a crutch with his foot in a cast.

But if there was one thing the blacksmith had, it was stubbornness – a trait his daughter, Alya, no doubt inherited from him.

The clash of metal on metal was harsh on Friar Fu's ears, and he smiled with a wince as he walked over to his friend.

Otis looked up at him, his brown eyes catching the glow of the iron rod before him. His face was kind. "Well, hey there, Friar Fu!" he called as he straightened up. "Good mornin'!"

The old priest quickly shushed him, putting a finger to his lips. Then he said in a calm whisper, "I have something for you, Otis – from your daughter."

The blacksmith's face became the face of a desperate father. He carefully placed his tools down, wiped himself off with a rag, and hopped over to the monk. "Is she safe?" he breathed.

Friar Fu nodded. He reached into the pocket of his brown robe and pulled out a jingling pouch that weighed heavily in his hand, along with a folded piece of paper.

Otis snatched up the paper first, unfolded it, and read the short but neat handwriting upon it:

_Hope this helps. We're both doing fine. Don't worry. I love you a ton._

No name or signiture. Outlaws were always careful.

Otis's eyes softened, and he let out a deep sigh. "Heaven help me, Friar," he said drearily, "I miss that girl. I want her to come home somethin' fierce. But I know... I know she'd rather be out _there_ fightin' than in _here_ doin' nothin'." The blacksmith shook his head with a half-hearted laugh. "Her mother would be proud. God bless that child. Her and Ladybug both."

Friar Fu patted him on the shoulder. "Have faith, my friend," he murmured with a warm smile. "Alya will be home sooner than you think."

Otis nodded before accepting the bag of gold. "I'm just... I'm glad she's not alone, you know? That Marinette girl, or Ladybug... Bah! Who cares what she calls herself these days? She's her father's daughter. I guess they _both_ are, yeah?"

The monk chuckled. "Indeed they are."

A hard knock rattled the door, making both men jump.

Friar Fu's brow tightened. Only _one_ person pounded on a neighbour's door like he owned the town. "It's the Sheriff!" he hissed to Otis. "Hide it – quick!"

After about a minute, and a few more knocks, a beefy voice sang from outside, "Here I come, ready or not!"

The door creaked open, and Sheriff Roger stepped inside. His belly protruded so enormously, it was a miracle the shirt of his blue uniform was still holding it all up.

Friar Fu observed the Sheriff, his hands clasped within his broad sleeves. Otis started hammering away again as though nothing happened.

"Greetings from your favourite tax collector!" Roger boasted, lifting his arms and dipping his head. "Mornin' Otis. Friar."

"Sheriff," Fu acknowledged coolly. He prayed the fat podge wouldn't try to make a scene in here, especially with a man of the Church present.

Otis wiped the sweat off his brow like he had been long and hard at work since dawn (which he actually had). "Ah, take it easy on me today, would ya, Sheriff?" he grumbled. "With my foot and all, I'm way behind in my work, you see."

Roger shrugged with a sneer. "I know, Otis, but you're way behind on your taxes too. And you know our beloved Princess Chloe would be heartbroken if one of her hard-workin' vassels didn't offer any tribute."

Friar Fu scowled. Beloved? If princesses were chosen by the people, then _Ladybug_ would be on the throne instead of that greedy Chloe.

"Oh, Sheriff, have a heart," the old monk scolded softly. "Can't you see the poor man's laid up?"

He walked over to the rocking chair in the corner of the forge – the one a nice neighbour had lent Otis so he could take some weight off his foot while he recovered.

"Come over here, Otis, and rest up a bit," Friar Fu said to his friend. He hoped ignoring the overbearing Sheriff would get him to leave.

Otis sighed with relief and grabbed his wooden crutch. "Why, thank you, Friar," he said as he hobbled over to his chair, step by step.

_Clink! Clink! Clink!_

Friar Fu winced, but he tried not to show the distress on his face.

Sadly, Roger was staring at Otis's casted foot instead, and he bore an excited grin.

The moment the blacksmith sat down, Roger strode over. "Here, Otis. Let me give you a hand with that _heavy_ foot."

The Sheriff leaned down and hoisted the foot up high – _very_ high. So high that the back of Otis's chair was practically touching the floor.

"Sheriff...!" Friar Fu blurted out.

Roger stuck his hand beneath the top opening of the cast... just as a big handful of gold coins came pouring out.

Friar Fu felt the anger rise in his blood. _How dare he violate an injured man?! _he thought with clenched teeth.

The Sheriff chuckled through his nose, snorting a bit. "Oh, what you clever shenanigans won't come up with next," he mused. He then pounded on the bottom of Otis's foot.

The blacksmith howled in pain as the last coin fell into Roger's hand.

The Sheriff smirked and dropped Otis's foot.

Friar Fu gasped and grabbed the back of the chair just in time before Otis came shooting back up. The monk lowered his friend gently before glaring up at the rotund redhead.

Roger placed the coins in the bag hanging from his belt, shaking it as he always did for good luck. "Sorry, you ol' dog," he told Otis with a smugness that clearly said he _wasn't_ sorry. "But even Princess Chloe says taxes should hurt."

Friar Fu couldn't hold back his frustration any longer. He stepped around Otis and jabbed a finger in Roger's face. "Now, see here, you... you _evil_, flint-hearted –!"

The Sheriff waved his hands dismissively. "Now, now... save your sermon, preacher. It ain't Sunday, you know." He chuckled to himself as he paraded triumphantly out the door without bothering to close it behind him. "Sunday... ha! I amuse even _myself_."

Friar Fu stared after Roger with contempt, wishing – not for the first time – that God would strike the fat man down with a lightning bolt.

Once the Sheriff was out of earshot, Friar Fu loosed a heated sigh. "That wretched man!"

Otis groaned as he readjusted himself in his seat. "Ah, don't be so bitter, Friar," he muttered. "This ain't the first time he's done this, and it won't be the last."

Friar Fu knew that was true, but it still made him all the more bitter. "I'll never forgive him for what he did after Tom died, God rest his soul. Taking the bakery, forcing Marinette to run away..." He hung his head down in shame.

It happened four years ago, yet it felt like it was just yesterday. Friar Fu had finished praying for Tom's spirit when that tomato-haired minstrel boy, Nathaniel a'Dale, ran into his Church with the news that Marinette was gone. Frantic, Friar Fu tried to go into the woods to find her, but the winter cold was too much for his old bones to bear. So the monk returned in his novel and prayed to God day and night for Marinette's safe return.

The friar's prayers were finally answered that beautiful spring morning. Two girls in hooded cloaks – one red, the other orange – rolled into town on a wagon loaded with tax money. The moment Friar Fu saw the red-hooded girl's face, he had burst into tears and fallen onto his knees before her, begging for her forgiveness.

To his surprise, Ladybug had lifted him back to his feet and embraced him tenderly. "I missed you too, Uncle Fu," she whispered. That was what she used to call him as a child, and it had warmed the old priest's heart for the first time since Tom's death.

Friar Fu looked up at Otis from his ruminating stance, this time with resolve. "I love her like she's my own daughter, Otis. So help me, I will do _anything_ to keep her out of that princess's hands if it's the last thing I do."

The blacksmith patted the priest on his shoulder. "You said it yourself, Friar," he said with a confident smile. "Have faith. All our troubles will be over soon. I can feel it in my bones." He looked down at his injured foot. "Well, _mostly_."

Friar Fu couldn't help but laugh.

* * *

Alix knew a birthday party was a lot to ask for, being the daughter of a peasant widow and all.

So when her mother Nadja invited Alix's friends to their cozy, straw-covered cottage to celebrate, the fourteen-year-old couldn't be happier.

Nathaniel brought his lute, as always. The young minstrel never went anywhere in Nottingham without a whistle on his tongue and a strum on his strings. He never worked for money. He simply took pleasure in providing music and merriment to the poor people; giving them a well-earned reprieve from their dreary lives.

As Nathaniel played, Alix's five-year-old sister Manon started dancing around with Rose, a short-haired blonde and the daughter of the local florist (hence the name "Rose"). Juleka, shy and dark-haired, stood on the sidelines with a smile. Kim, tall and hard-muscled from working in the fields, did a hearty jig with Max, who was scrawny, dark-skinned, and half Kim's height.

Alix joined in on the dancing, her deep-pink hair bouncing around her head. She couldn't help but notice the broad smile on her mother's face too.

Nadja had fallen on hard times ever since the taxes had gone up. The magenta-haired widow had to work long hours every day just to keep her two daughters fed. Today, she decided that Alix's birthday was good cause to take a break.

And when Nadja presented her eldest daughter with her present – a small green box tied up with a pink ribbon – the group broke out into song, with Nathaniel and his lute leading:

"_Happy Birthday to you, Happy birthday to you!_

_Happy Birthday dear Alix..._"

Suddenly, a deep voice bellowed from the doorway, completely off-key: "_Happy Birthday tooooo youuuuuuu!_"

Alix snapped around, her joy plummeting. _No_, she thought, _not him! Not now!_

Nadja gasped and immediately pulled Manon close.

Nathaniel lost his place and accidentally strummed a high, sour note.

Kim, Juleka, Rose, and Max glared annoyingly at the intruder.

Alix just kept a straight face. There was no way Sheriff Roger of Nottingham was going to ruin her special day.

The fat redhead walked over to Alix with a smile of intrigue. "Well, now ... Are you the little girl this party is for?"

_I'm not little_. Alix swallowed those words before she blurted them out. "Yes, Mister Sheriff, sir," she said as politely as possible, just like her mother taught her.

Roger grinned. "Well, how 'bout that? Looks like I dropped in just in time!" He glanced down at the box in the girl's hand. "Why don't you go ahead and open that pretty present of yours?"

Alix stared at him warily and took a couple safe steps away from the Sheriff before undoing the ribbon. When she opened the box, her deep-blue eyes lit up like fireflies on a lagoon.

It was only a single coin; a copper farthing, to be exact. But the fact that her mother was willing to spare Alix one coin for her to keep and spend at her leisure... It was better than Alix ever hoped for.

"A whole farthing!" she announced. "Thanks, Mom!" She lifted the box and poured the coin into her hand.

Or _tried_ to.

Like a snake snatching up its prey, a bulging hand stuck out in Alix's face and caught the little copper before pulling away.

Once again, Alix's happiness was replaced with immediate shock. "Hey!" she shouted. "Give that back! It's mine!"

She flung herself at Roger like an angry cat, clawing wildly. But Kim was right beside her, and he managed to grab the raging fourteen-year-old before she could so much as scratch the Sheriff.

"Alix, _don't_," Kim whispered to his friend cautiously, his brown eyes firm but kind.

Roger found the scene quite amusing, and he chuckled as he tossed the farthing into the air and caught it again.

Nadja drew herself up taller, her expression dark and stormy. "Have you no heart?" she stated. "I scrimped and scraped to give that to her!"

The Sheriff acknowledged her with a dip of his head. "Now that's mighty kind of you, Ma'am," he sneered. "But you know what they say: the family that _stays_ together _pays_ together."

Alix affixed him with a heated glare. "You greedy, fat-headed weasel!" she spat.

Manon gasped and covered the ears of her stuffed bunny.

"_Alix_," Nadja scolded softly. She then turned back to Roger. "In mercy's name, Sheriff, it's her _birthday_."

Roger pulled off a fake pout. "Oh, don't take it so hard, Ma'am," he cooed. "Princess Chloe wishes your daughter a Happy Birthday too."

Her face reddening, Alix opened her mouth again, but a cautious eye from her mother made the pink-haired girl bite down on her tongue.

Her friends watched the Sheriff in silence, but their faces were also etched with stone-cold hatred. It was hard for _them_ to hold back their frustration too. But they – like Nadja – knew the consequences of fighting back against an officer of the Crown. If you were lucky, you were sent to prison for life. If not, you faced a public hanging.

Alix blew out a heavy breath of defeat and eased out of Kim's arms. If she were Ladybug, she would send Fat Roger running into the woods screaming like a "little girl".

Just then, a faint creaky voice called from the open doorway, "Alms? Alms? Alms for the poor?"

Everyone turned, including the Sheriff, and they were surprised to see a hunched figure wobbling into the house, tapping a wooden cane repeatedly in front of her.

It was a beggar woman, by the look of her: dressed in a ragged, brown dress and a floppy hat that sat atop of her long, wispy, grey hair. She held her cane in one hand and a small tin cup in the other, like she was asking for a drink.

Alix couldn't see the woman's face very well, with that hat and that wig in the way. _And_ that grey blindfold. _She's blind_, Alix realized. She suddenly forgot all about her stolen birthday present and felt a twang of pity for this unfortunate old woman.

The beggar lifted her tin cup, shaking it and jingling the few coins inside. "Alms, me good sir? Alms for the poor?" she croaked in a thick accent that rolled off her tongue.

Sheriff Roger hummed with a smirk. "I'll do you one better, old lady," he said as he walked up to her. "How about alms for the _princess?_"

Without waiting for a response, Roger bumped his fist underneath the tin cup. Five coins flew up into the air, and the Sheriff caught them all in one hand.

Nadja gasped, covering her mouth.

Alix and her friends reeled, their anger bubbling even hotter.

What sort of man took money from a helpless, blind old lady? Apparently, the _rotten_ sort.

Roger put the coins in his pouch and gave it a little shake. "Well," he said with a satisfied sigh, "this sure has been a fruitful morning."

And as he strode past the perplexed beggar woman and headed outside, the Sheriff of Nottingham called over his shoulder, "Keep savin'!"

Nadja scowled in his direction. "What a _dirty_ trick," she muttered under her breath.

Manon looked up at her mother curiously, her baby-doll brown eyes glossy. "Mama? Why did the Sherf-Man take Ally's present?"

Nadja immediately lost the bitterness in her face, and she smiled sadly at her youngest daughter. "Because he wanted to, baby," she said, "and there was nothing we could do to stop him."

Alix huffed and folded her arms, her eyes burning with tears. "_Ladybug_ could've stopped him," she asserted.

"Alix, hush," her mother whispered. "Not in front of the nice lady."

The beggar woman just stood there in front of the door, tipping her tin cup upside-down as though just realizing that all the coins were gone.

Nadja walked over and gently took her new visitor by the arm. "Please, dear, come in," she said with a welcoming tone. "Come in and rest yourself."

The old woman smiled, her lips surprisingly bright-pink and taut. "Thank ye, Mother. Thank ye," she said as she tapped her way into the room.

Only then did Alix notice that Nathaniel was grinning at the beggar, but in a way that made one corner of his mouth curl up a bit. It made Alix even more curious.

She peered at the old lady more carefully this time, and that's when Alix noticed her hands. Under the layer of oily dirt, which looked like it had been smeared on, the beggar's fingers were actually elegant and slender with not a crinkle to be seen.

A surge of astonishment rose up in Alix's gut. _Could it be?_

"Now, tell me," the woman asked, tilting her head this way and that. "Did me ol' ears hear someone singin' a birthday song, eh?"

Manon sniffled. "It's Ally's birthday," she answered, her lip quivering. "But that... mean Sherf..." Tears started falling down her little cheeks.

Alix immediately came over, knelt beside her little sister, and gave her a big hug to comfort her. Then, she looked up at the beggar. "He took the copper farthing Mom saved for me," she explained bitterly. "She worked so hard for it, and that greedy slob took it without a thought."

The woman's brow twitched. "Did he now? Oh... well, don't waste yer tears on him, sweetie."

Then, to everyone's surprise, the beggar woman lifted her blindfold off, revealing two eyes of crystal-clear blue. She wasn't blind at all!

"Be stout-hearted and don't let it get you down," the _young_ woman told Nadja's daughters in a strong, lovely voice.

Nathaniel snorted and shook his head. "You just couldn't keep a straight face, now could you?" he teased.

"Huh?!" Rose, Juleka, Max, and Kim blurted in unison, glancing between the red-haired minstrel and the mysterious stranger.

Only then did Alix beam. "I knew it! It _is_ you!"

The woman winked and stood up straight and tall, ripping her disguise off and exposing her true identity: an eighteen-year-old girl dressed in leathers with a large sack that had substituted for the "hump" on her back. She didn't have her bow or her red, spotted cloak today, but not one soul in Nottingham ever forgot her freckled face and midnight-blue hair.

Marinette, the baker's daughter. Ladybug, the hero of the people.

"Miss Ladybug!" Manon cheered with delight, running over to embrace her.

Ladybug hugged the child back before scooping her up and twirling her around, the both of them laughing.

Rose and Juleka chattered with excitement.

Kim shot a playful frown at a smug-looming Nathaniel. "You knew all along, you sly fox," he said.

The young minstrel shrugged. "Hey, it's my job to know everything going on around here. I'm kinda omniscient that way."

Max stared at Ladybug and sighed dreamily. "Wow... She's more beautiful in real life than on her reward posters."

Juleka grinned sideways at him. "You would know," she mused. "You keep one of them in your bedroom."

Max stiffened with a heavy, purple blush beneath his dark skin.

Alix giggled. This birthday was looking out to be a good one after all!

Once Ladybug set Manon down, Nadja smiled and embraced the rogue like she was a member of the family. "It's so good to see you, Marinette," she said, her eyes gleaming.

"You as well, Nadja," Ladybug said as she pulled away. "Sorry I couldn't come sooner."

Nadja waved that remark away. "Oh, stop. You never need to apologize for anything. Nottingham's a big town." She looked Ladybug up and down with surprise. "Goodness me, you seem taller than the last time I saw you. And so _beautiful_."

Ladybug blushed. "Oh, Nadja, I haven't gotten _that_ much older. Speaking of which..." She turned to Alix with open arms. "Happy Birthday, Speedy."

Alix giggled as she threw her arms around the blunette and squeezed her tightly.

Her mother and Marinette's father, Tom the Baker, had been good friends while Tom was still alive. Alix had been young when Marinette donned the red hood, but she always considered the outlaw to be her big sister. Even though Ladybug couldn't visit very often – being a wanted fugitive and all – it made the days she _did_ visit all the more wonderful.

Ladybug pulled away and sighed. "So... how old are you now?"

Alix lifted her chin with pride. "Fourteen-years-old," she replied. "Going on fifteen."

Ladybug's jaw dropped. "Wow! That _does_ deserve something special." She grinned mischievously and dropped her sack onto the floor. "I've got _just_ the right present for you, Speedy."

Alix drew closer as the blunette fished something long and beautifully-carved out of her bag: a wooden bow made of darkened elm with a silvery string, and a single arrow to go with it.

Everyone let out a soft, "_Whoa...!_"

Alix's heart shot up into the heavens, and she shivered with excitement. "No way...!" she breathed. "For me?!"

Ladybug nodded, grinning from ear to ear.

Alix took the bow in her hand eagerly. The moment she gripped the wood, she felt like a ranger readying for battle. She set the arrow in place and pulled it back on the string, just like she used so every year during the Harvest Festival.

"Hey, how do I look, guys?" Alix asked her friends and family.

Manon pursed her lips – an expression she often copied from her mother. "Not much like Miss Ladybug," she said.

Nathaniel looked back at Alix and tapped his chin in contemplation. "She's right," he said. "The posture is good, but... there's something missing."

Ladybug blinked before her bluebell eyes widened with realization. "Silly me, I completely forgot!" She dug her hand back in her sack. "I made _this_ too. It's not red, but..."

She pulled out a long piece of teal-blue fabric... with a _hood_.

Alix could barely breathe as Ladybug draped the small cloak over her shoulders and tied it up at the neck. The cloak went all the way to the ground, and the hood was so broad that it fanned out at the sides.

"There you go," Ladybug said, stepping back to observe her friend. "Now you look like you can join my merry band of thieves. But not _yet_," she added when Alix's eyes lit up and Nadia's eyes widened. "Wait a few more birthdays, okay?"

Alix still retained her smile... until the hood slipped over her eyes.

She heard her friends chuckling under their breaths.

"Shh," Nadja scolded. "Mind your manners."

"Yeah, mine your manas," Manon repeated, waving a finger at Alix's friends.

Ladybug giggled and pulled Alix's hood back a bit over her pink locks so she could see. "Don't worry, Speedy, you'll grow into it." She winked with a sly grin.

That was enough to cheer Alix up. A bow and arrow _and_ a hood? This was the best birthday ever!

"Thanks, LB!" Alix hugged Ladybug again before raising her present high. "Oo-de-lally! I'm gonna try it out!"

And with that, she charged out the door and onto the open, grassy-green fields.

* * *

Marinette watched as Alix took off outside with her new gifts.

"Wait for us!" Max called, running after his pink-haired friend.

"I wanna see!" Rose raced after her two friends.

"Yo, hold up!" Kim called.

"I'm right behind you!" Juleka followed on his heels.

Manon tugged on Nadja's skirt. "Mama, can I go with them? Pleeeeeease?"

Her mother patted her youngest on the head. "Oh, all right, Manon. But stay close to your sister. And stay away from the castle." Her voice was gentle but carried a serious edge to it.

"Okay!" Manon lifted her bunny doll into her arms and ran out the door. But then she stopped and waved back. "Bye, Miss Ladybug! Come again, on _my_ berfday!"

Marinette smiled and waved back.

Once the child was gone, Nathaniel bowed to the two remaining women. "Well, guess it's time for _me_ to hit the road too." He looked at Marinette. "I've got a new lead to look into, then I'll meet you at the hideout."

One thing Nathaniel was well-noted for, other than his mean music, was his habit of eavesdropping. Soldiers never paid attention to minstrels, and they liked to blabber about _everything_. Nathaniel's reports on his findings were how Ladybug and Rena Rouge kept track of all the comings and goings of the rich in Nottingham.

Marinette nodded. "Be careful," she told him.

"Always am." Nathaniel winked and headed outside, whistling a happy tune and stepping to the beat.

Nadja let out a soft laugh and turned to her last remaining visitor. "I haven't seen my two girls smile so big in a long time," she said. "Now you've made Alix's birthday a memorable one. How can I ever thank you?"

The look Marinette gave her father's friend was kind and selfless. "I only wish I could do more," she replied. She reached back into her bag and pulled out a heavy pouch. "Here – this is for you."

Nadja took it in both hands, her calloused fingers jingling the coins inside.

The widow's smile faltered, and she seemed to fumble with her next words. "Oh, Marinette... Please stay with us. Just for a day or two. We can make room, and hide you if the Sheriff should come back. My husband built a cellar under the house – it's perfectly safe." Her deep, purplish eyes were sad but firm. "Please, let me do this for you... in honour of your father."

Marinette shook her head and placed a hand on Nadja's shoulder. "You know I can't," she said gently. "If you were caught harbouring an outlaw..." She bit her lip and smiled weakly. "Well, I could never forgive myself if anything happened to you and the girls."

Nadja sighed through her nostrils. "I know, but... That devil of a sheriff and his pampered princess... If they stay here any longer, none of us will survive the next winter. And you do _so much_ to keep our hopes alive that..." She swallowed a hard lump and wiped her eyes. After a small pause, she continued, "I lost my husband, and God knows I would lay my life down for my girls. But what about _you?_ Alix and Manon love you like a sister, and I think of you as a third daughter. I can't _bear_ the thought of you running headfirst into danger."

Marinette smiled, touched by the woman's words. After she lost her father, she never imagined she would ever have anyone else to call "family". But then she met Alya, and they became two peas in a pod. Then Friar Fu welcomed her back, then Otis, then Nathaniel, then Nadja and her daughters... and many others who had been saved from starvation thanks to Ladybug's robberies.

Now Marinette knew that _Nottingham_ was her new family, and she was determined not to lose this one.

"I know, Nadja, and I'm forever grateful for that," she said. "I love Alix and Manon too, which is why I need to stay away to keep them safe. To keep _all_ of you safe." Her eyes glimmered. "Besides, you and Friar Fu might have to fight for custody over me anyway."

That made Nadja laugh, but her eyes were still tear-ridden.

The two of them embraced again, and then Marinette retrieved her sack and pulled her beggar disguise back on.

Once her hat and wig were secured, the young outlaw smiled again at Nadja. "Keep your chin up," she said with a believable sense of optimism. "Someday, there _will_ be happiness again in Nottingham. You'll see."

Nadja smiled through her tears.

Marinette slipped her blindfold over her eyes, held out her tin cup, and hunched over as she wobbled back out onto the street, tapping her cane.

Behind her, Marinette heard Nadja sigh from the doorway, "Bless you, my dear. _Bless you._"


	6. Kids at Play

CHAPTER SIX:

KIDS AT PLAY

_Legend has it that Nottingham Castle once belonged to Queen Audrey of England, the __mother of Felix and Chloe, __while she was still the noble daughter of Lord Theodore of Bourgeois. After she married King André and moved to London, Nottingham Castle was eventually inherited by Audrey's younger sister, Emilie._

_In time, a young lordling named Gabriel of Agreste came to Nottingham to court the kind and generous Lady Emilie. He succeeded, and the two were happily married within a year. Five summers later, after a few unfortunate miscarriages and a stillbirth, Gabriel and Emilie were blessed at long last with a healthy baby boy, whom they named Adrien. Sadly, the new parents' joy ended when Her Ladyship died in childbed._

_At the age of seventeen, Sir Adrien was forced to leave Nottingham Castle for London to spend time with his royal maternal cousins, King Felix and Princess Chloe. While it is arguable as to whether or not Lord Gabriel conspired to betroth his son to the princess, it is safe to say that his efforts (if any) were in vain. Disgusted by Chloe's callous and greedy nature, Adrien refused to be swayed by her charms and remained adamant in his decision to one day return to Nottingham... and reunite with the red-hooded outlaw he heard so much about._

_Unfortunately, his tyrannical cousin beat the lordling to it._

_After her humiliation at the hands of Ladybug and Rena Rouge on the King's Highway, Princess Chloe decided to put her kingdom tour on hold and take up residence in Nottingham Castle. She resolved to stay there until the Red Archer was captured and executed._

_Soon after, Sir Adrien disguised himself as a __humble traveller and departed at last for the town of his birth after four years abroad, taking only his personal attendant with him._

_And on the day he returned... well, I'm afraid you'll have to wait a bit for the next part if you want to learn more._

_Until then, let's get on with the story, shall we?_

* * *

Alix, her sister, and her four friends spent the whole day playing along the rolling fields just outside the town.

Further ahead was Nottingham Castle, a great stone structure with huge towers, a high wall, and a massive moat. The entire thing was perched on a grand hill, and the six friends were playing several yards away from the back of the castle.

Everyone took turns shooting with Alix's new bow... except Manon, who was too young. She tried at one point to offer to just _hold_ the bow while Alix fired the arrow, but her sister had said no.

"Don't worry, Manon," Alix assured her. "The moment you're old enough, I'll teach ya."

Manon just sat down on the grass with a huff and started playing with her bunny doll.

Once everyone had a chance to shoot, Alix decided to do something a little bolder. "I wanna see how far I can shoot this thing," she told her friends, loading up her arrow again.

"Gee, I don't know, Alix," Juleka said. The copper eye that wasn't concealed by her long, dark hair twitched with wariness. "That string's pretty strong. You should be careful."

"Yeah, why don't you let _me_ do it?" Kim asked, reaching for the bow.

"Oh, no you don't!" Alix chuckled, jerking away as she nocked the arrow and lifted it up towards the sky. "_I'm_ getting this one."

Max lifted a finger. "Um, can I offer a suggestion as to where to shoot?"

"Nope," Alix said, closing her left eye.

"You're pointing it too high!" Rose exclaimed.

"I'm not either!" Alix hissed between her clenched teeth as her arm began to strain. "Watch this!"

She let go of the string, and the arrow zipped high into the air, shrinking into the size of a small bird in the distance.

"Wow!" Manon cheered.

"Look at it go!" Kim called.

Alix smiled... until she saw the arrow hovering over a certain castle up on the hill.

She froze, realization and horror dawning on her. In her haste to show off, she hadn't been paying direct attention as to where she was aiming.

Now, the pink-haired pauper was forced to watch as her one and only arrow disappeared beyond the back wall of Nottingham Castle.

Everyone was speechless and still for a breathtaking minute.

Then Juleka muttered fearfully, "Uh-oh, now you've done it."

Rose had her hands clasped over her pale cheeks. "Right in Princess Chloe's backyard," she shivered.

Manon huddled closer to Alix, clutching her doll to her chest.

Alix stared with a sinking feeling at the castle, its pale-stone walls yellow in the afternoon sun.

It used to belong to Lord Gabriel of Agreste. Now it was Princess Chloe's castle; her secluded fortress where no peasant dared enter.

But... Alix's arrow was in there; the arrow Ladybug had given her. The greatest gift she had ever gotten. Alix couldn't just forget about it and move on.

Narrowing her eyes determinedly, Alix drew her hood further down and took off towards the castle.

Her friends, who knew better than to call out to Alix and draw attention, chased after her in silence. Their hasty trampling was nothing but soft brushes along the grass.

Together, they ran all the way over the flat bridge that cut across the moat and led them right up to the castle wall. The only way inside was a small, barred gate sealed with a thick lock. When Alix peered through, she saw no guards or traps – just a stone walkway surrounded by twin walls of towering green hedges. Was there a garden beyond them, or maybe a courtyard?

Either way, it seemed like a safe place to sneak in. And the bars _were_ wide enough for a small, thin child like Alix to squeeze through.

Just then, Manon was tugging on her sister's new teal cloak. "Ally, you can't go in there," she insisted. "Mama said not to."

Max agreed. "Princess Chloe will chop of your head." He lifted the top of his tunic over his head, making him look headless. "Like this," he muffled through the fabric.

Rose and Juleka cringed. Kim rolled his eyes.

Alix gently nudged Manon away. "I don't care, guys. I've gotta get my arrow back." She gripped the bars of the gate and prepared to pull herself through.

Until Juleka whispered, "Wait a minute! Manon might tattle on ya, Alix."

The five-year-old pouted. "No I won't!"

Alix stepped away from the gate and smiled at her little sister. "She's right, Manny," she said calmly. "I can't have you running off to Mom if there's trouble. You've gotta take the Oath."

Manon craned her head to the side curiously. "What's a... oaf?" she asked.

"_Oath_," Max clarified. "It's like a promise, and you can't break it."

"But... isn't she too young to join the gang?" Kim asked.

"Quiet, Kim," Alix snapped before kneeling before her sister. "Okay, Manon, put your hand over your heart and cross your eyes." She demonstrated the gesture so Manon could see.

Manon copied it, though she had trouble crossing her eyes, so she just stared down at her nose.

"Now repeat after me," Alix said. "Spiders, snakes and a lizard's head."

"Spiders, snakes and a... lizard's head," Manon repeated slowly.

"If I tattle on my sister, I'll die till I'm dead."

"If I tattle on my sister... um... die till I'm dead!" Manon said, producing a buck-toothed grin with immense pride.

Alix grinned back and ruffled Manon's brown hair before standing up.

She saluted the rest of her squad, turned to the gate, and slipped through the bars.

Alix tiptoed carefully along the stone path, holding her bow out in front of her like a shield. Her cloak dragged along the ground behind her.

It wasn't long before she heard voices behind the green, hedge-wall. _Male_ voices.

_Guards? _Alix thought. She gulped and crept closer, doing her best not to rattle the hedge too much.

That's when the little intruder heard whacking, followed by thumping, and then chuckling. Then there was heavy breathing.

Alix was puzzled. _Are they fighting? If they are, then why are they laughing?_ She squeezed further through the hedge to get a better look.

Once she had a good line of sight, Alix was amazed to see an entire courtyard surrounded by trees and flowery bushes, like a miniature forest. In the centre was a small grassy area where two young men – probably in their early twenties, Alix guessed – were sparring with wooden staffs.

The first was tall, fair-skinned and lithe, with a slight build along his chest and arms. He wore a short, white tunic and matching trousers that were rolled up at his ankles, and his feet were bare and streaked with grass-stains. The man's short hair was an astounding shade of gold, and several sweaty strands gleamed in the sunlight. His face was sharp and angular, and when he smiled, it was just as sharp and even more mischievous. His eyes were as green as the greenwood around him, making him look more fairy-esque.

The second young man was darker of hair and of skin, and a couple inches shorter. His eyes were a warm brown, and his hair was cropped into a layer of fuzz on his head. Like his sparring partner, he too was barefoot and dressed in white. Unlike his partner, he was gangly and wore large round glasses on his face. But he also possessed a deep kind of inner strength in his gaze and his posture, like a knight protecting his liege.

The dark-skinned man sighed and wiped his sweat-streaked brow with a chuckle. "Your move now, Adrien," he said in a light voice. "Show me what you've got."

Alix gasped, and then covered her mouth.

Adrien? As in... _Sir_ Adrien? The son of Lord Gabriel? Princess Chloe's cousin? Ladybug's childhood sweetheart?

Alix remembered Friar Fu telling her that last part; how Marinette and Adrien had been in love for many years since they were children, until the lordling left and Marinette became an outlaw.

_I had no idea he came back!_ Alix thought with a small smile. _Does Ladybug know he's back? Has he tried to find her?_

The golden-haired noble – who looked and acted so un-noble-like – gave his partner a feline grin and twirled his staff with one hand. "Are you ready, Nino? I'm not going easy on you this time," he warned in a deep but playful vibrato.

Nino snorted and bowed mockingly. "Nor I you, _Your Lordship_. Now give me a good show, or I'm resigning as your personal attendant."

Sir Adrien's eyes narrowed with focus, and he swept into a low crouch. "I accept your challenge, sir. _En garde!_" He charged and swung his staff.

"_Touché!_" Nino called, blocking the blow and dancing away before making a swift comeback.

_Whack! Whack! Whack!_

The sounds of wood pounding on wood made Alix shift in her hiding place. Those men may just be training, but they were really giving it their all. Alix imagined how they would fight with real swords. _They probably wouldn't do so without armour_, she concluded.

But she couldn't ogle the fighting for long. She had to find her arrow, grab it, and get out of here before Sir Adrien saw her and called the guards.

Alix scanned the courtyard, looking over every tree and shrubbery.

Finally, she spotted her arrow. Its tip was embedded in the grass just a few feet away behind Sir Adrien.

Hmm... Well, as long as the lordling was occupied, Alix might just make it.

_Very_ carefully, the pink-haired girl eased out of the hedge and tiptoed behind the trees. She stopped at each one and checked to make sure she was in the clear before moving on. Just a couple more...

"Ow!" Adrien cried, leaping back and bobbing on his feet. "Huh, that was a good one, Nino." He struck again, ducking the other way in a fake attack.

Nino stumbled to the side, groaning with a smile. "You're not so bad yourself," he commented, panting heavily. "Phew... this heat is _killing_ me."

The two men met in the middle once more.

_Whack! Whack..._

Suddenly, Adrien twirled Nino's staff with his own in a broad circle before sending it flying up into the air with a hard flick of his wrist.

Nino gasped as Adrien lifted his chin with the end of his staff.

"Yield?" the lordling sneered.

His friend's brown eyes narrowed, but he was smiling. "_Never_," he growled. "I'll never surrender to the likes of – GAH!" He took a sudden soft jab to the gut and fell backwards.

"Ha! Got you again!" Adrien jeered before he burst out laughing.

Nino chuckled even as he scowled up at the future Lord of Agreste. "Okay, wise guy, but the _next_ round is mine." He offered up his hand, and Adrien kindly lifted him to his feet. Then, Nino looked around. "Where'd my staff go?"

Alix was hiding behind the last tree closest to her arrow. She stood perfectly still, sweat beading down her brow. Her arrow was just a hop and a grab away.

"I don't see it," Sir Adrien said.

"Well, where did you fling it off to?" Nino demanded, clearly annoyed.

"Relax, I'm sure it's around – Oh, look! There it is!"

Alix leapt out of her hiding spot just seconds before Adrien's proclamation.

So when her hand reached for arrow, she realized too late that a wooden staff was lying right beside it... and another pale hand was hovering over it.

Alix's gut clenched with a shaking dread as she looked up slowly into the perplexed green eyes of Sir Adrien staring right back at her.

* * *

Adrien gaped at the young, hooded girl crouching before him.

He knew right away that she was a peasant. For one thing, she was sneaking around like she wasn't supposed to be here. For another thing, Adrien could see the ragged tunic and pants underneath the folds of the teal cloak that was clearly too big for her.

But then Adrien noticed the arrow the girl still had her hand stretched out towards, and the deep-brown bow she held in her other hand.

For a brief, nostalgic moment, Adrien was ten-years-old again, meeting another young, hooded archer in this very courtyard. Was it really so long ago?

Adrien smiled kindly at the girl. "Well, well," he said. "Where did you come from, little lady?"

The girl snatched her hand back like she had been bitten by a snake, and she staggered backwards so fast that she tripped over herself.

Concern flashed across Adrien's face, and he held out his free hand. "Hey, hey, easy there," he said gently. "I'm not going to hurt you."

"Adrien? Who are you – ? Oh!"

Nino came up on Adrien's right, and he blinked wide-eyed at the peasant girl. "How did _she_ get in here?" he asked, more out of curiosity than suspicion.

At that moment, the girl's face crumpled and she curled up on her knees. "Oh, please, sir! _Please_ don't tell Princess Chloe!" she begged. "Don't let her chop off my head! I have a mother and a baby sister!"

It suddenly dawned on Adrien why this girl was so frightened. It wasn't because of _him_ – it was because of his ruthless cousin, Chloe.

_Does she really sow such terror in the hearts of her own people?_ Adrien thought. He knew Chloe to be cruel, but he never knew how much of an impact that cruelty made on Nottingham.

How _could_ he know? The moment Adrien returned home from London a few weeks ago, the princess had forbade him from having any contact with the townsfolk. It left Adrien insulted and angry. Why couldn't he visit the people he governed; see their suffering, lend them aid and support? It was like he was living under his father's strict rules all over again, even though Lord Gabriel was leagues away in London keeping watch over Chloe's court while she was away.

Well, Sir Adrien of Agreste was not one to sit back and do nothing. Nor was he one to terrorize a poor little girl, especially one who reminded him so much of his Ladybug.

Adrien walked over to the girl in the teal hood. "Don't be afraid," he assured. "You've done nothing wrong. And don't worry about Princess Chloe. She's locked herself up in her tower and won't come out until supper." He glanced over his shoulders and whispered with a wink. "Don't tell anyone I told you that."

The girl blinked at him, and then her expression changed from fearful to amused.

Adrien dropped his staff and extended his hand to her. "I'm Adrien. What's _your_ name?" he asked.

The girl smiled shyly before taking his hand. "Alix," she replied.

The twenty-one-year-old lord lifted her back up with a friendly smile. "Nice to meet you, Alix. This is Nino, my best friend and attendant."

"By _attendant_, he means _slave_," Nino joked as he shook Alix's hand. "His Lordship likes to whack me with a stick for no reason."

Alix giggled, and her uneasiness faded away little by little.

Adrien looked her over again before casting a sideways grin at his partner. "Nino, does this young archer remind you of anyone?"

Nino squinted at Alix, and then his eyes lit up. "Oh my..." he breathed in a dramatic fashion. "Could it be... the notorious Ladybug?"

Alix beamed. "So it's true?" she asked. "You _do_ know Ladybug?"

Adrien felt a blush creep into his smile. "_Of course_ I know her," he said casually. "Only Ladybug wears a hood and carries a bow."

Alix lifted a sly eyebrow. "Well, believe it or not, Ladybug gave me this bow _and_ this hood for my birthday earlier today." She presented her bow for both men to see.

"Did she now?" Adrien's smile deepened. _So she's still out there_, he thought with newfound hope, _and she's all right_. "That was really nice of her."

Just then, a tiny sneeze sounded from the hedge-wall.

Nino was the first to look, and he nudged the lordling with a smirk. "_Psst_, Adrien," he whispered. "Don't look now, but I think we're surrounded."

Adrien glanced over Alix and smiled when he saw five more kids getting tangled up in the hedge – four teenagers and a child, to be precise.

"Uh-oh," hissed a girl's high-pitched voice.

"Busted," came a boy's voice.

"Are we in trouble?" murmured a tiny voice, probably the child's.

Adrien waved over to them welcomingly. "It's all right, everyone – you can come out," he called.

Alix waved back too. "Come on, guys. This is Sir Adrien! _The_ Sir Adrien!"

There were a few astounded gasps and awed whispers from the hedge. Then, all five figures scrambled out of the greenery and raced over to join their hooded friend.

The child lagged behind the others. "Hey! Not so fast!" she whined. "Wait for me!"

Once they were all gathered, Adrien did a quick study of his new arrivals before introductions were made: Kim was the tall spiky-haired one, Max was the dark one, Juleka had the dark hair, Rose had the light hair, and little Manon was Alix's baby sister.

"So how did you kids get in here?" Nino asked.

"Easy," Alix said. "I slipped through the bars of the gate, but the others..." She paused with a confused look before spinning to face her companions. "Hey, how did _you_ guys get in?"

Juleka shrugged. "We got worried when you didn't come back, so Max picked the lock."

"With a hairpin," Max added.

"Juleka's hairpin?" Alix asked.

"No, _Kim's_ hairpin," Rose answered before giggling into her hand.

Kim scowled. "I already told you – it's my _mother's_ hairpin, and I'm holding onto it for her," he clarified with dignity.

Adrien and Nino chuckled.

The young lord never had visitors before. At least, not ones that he actually _liked_.

All the other young nobles at court talked too properly and never laughed, except while making snide comments at each other. It was a den of poisonous serpents who could strike you if you said the wrong thing, or simply ignore you and treat you like an inferior.

But here, in the presence of these young peasants, Adrien knew they would never judge him for being improper or unsophisticated. Here, he was free to speak as he pleased.

"Ally shoot her arrow over the wall," Manon explained. "It flied too high and got away."

Adrien smiled warmly at the child. "Well, I'm glad it did, because now I get to meet all of you."

Manon giggled shyly. Then, she asked out of the blue, "Are you gonna marry Ladybug?"

"_Manny!_" Alix blurted with shock.

Adrien felt all the blood shoot into his face.

Nino guffawed, bending over so much that he had to lean against a tree.

Adrien shot his attendant a dirty look before giving Manon an awkward one. "What..." He cleared his throat. "What makes you say that?"

"Oh, come on," Kim answered with a raised eyebrow. "Everyone in Nottingham knows how close the two of you were."

"Mama says you and Ladybug are... are sweeties," Manon added.

"Sweet_hearts_," Rose clarified, clutching her hands to her chest.

Adrien chuckled to himself, unable to speak. He rubbed the back of his neck, which had suddenly grown clammy. _It's the heat_, he told himself.

But should he really lie to these kids? Or to himself, for that matter? Was there really any harm in saying that you still loved someone even after you both chose to end your relationship?

Adrien finally dropped his hand and took a deep breath. "All right, little lady," he said as he lowered himself down to meet Manon eye-to-eye. "Ladybug and I _were_ sweeties once, but then I had to go to London with my father. That was four years ago."

Manon became sad. "But why?"

"Royal duties," Nino chimed in. "Adrien is the king's cousin."

"Why didn't Ladybug go with you?" Max asked.

Adrien smiled sadly. "She wanted to stay here with her father, and her people." He stopped and lowered his head mournfully. "I was so shocked to hear that Tom the Baker passed away so suddenly. He was a good man, and I always loved his croissants."

Manon tilted her head. "What's a quill-sont?"

"Wait, hold on," Alix interjected, narrowing her eyes at Adrien. "If you knew Marinette's father was dead, why didn't you come back for her?"

Adrien swallowed something hard and vile, and he stood up briskly before walking over to a nearby tree. Thankfully, no one questioned him or pushed him further.

The lordling was silent for a moment before he spoke earnestly, "I _wanted_ to. Every day. But if my father ever found out that I was in love with a baker's daughter, he'd lock me up and force me into a marriage of _his_ choosing." Adrien sighed. "So I waited. I waited until the time was right to finally leave London. But even though I'm here..." He clenched his fist. "Even though I'm back, I'm _still_ treated like a prisoner."

No one said a word. The only noises came from the sweet chirps of the birds in the treetops.

Then... Adrien felt a tiny hand grasp his own.

He looked down into Little Manon's eyes when she asked, "Do you miss her?"

Adrien knew who she was referring to, and he nodded with a smile. "Not a day goes by when I don't think about her," he said. Then, his green eyes sparkled. "Do you want to see our magic tree?"

Manon nodded eagerly.

So the lordling and his attendant led their six new friends over to the big tree in the courtyard – the one where a seven-year-old girl had literally crashed into Adrien's life... and instantly won his heart.

He showed the kids the carving he had made: the initials "A and M" and the two crossed arrows bordered by a heart. "I carved that for Marinette for her tenth birthday," Adrien said, remembering that day like it was yesterday. "She said it was the most wonderful gift ever."

"Awwwww," Rose cooed. "That's so sweet!"

"Well, then that settles it," Kim said. "You need to get out there, find that girl, and tell her how you feel!"

"And then you'll kiss!" Manon exclaimed, "and live happily eva after!"

Adrien saw Nino smiling at him before the lordling shook his head with a small laugh. "Oh, I don't know," he said, hopelessly. "I've been away so long. What if she's forgotten all about me?"

The appall on each of the kids' faces was so big, Adrien thought their mouths would snap off.

Alix's shock melted into resolve. "Not Ladybug!" she said, snatching a stray stick off the ground and waving it like a sword. "I bet she'd storm the castle, fight off the guards, rescue ya, and run off with ya into Sherwood Forest!"

Adrien blinked before his eyes brightened and he chuckled. _Isn't the hero supposed to rescue the maiden?_ he thought bashfully.

"Whoa, now. Hold on a moment there, young lady," Nino said to Alix with a dark, haunting tone. "You've forgotten one important thing." He looked left, he looked right, and then he whispered, "Princess Chloe."

Manon, Rose, and Juleka shuddered. Kim's face fell. Max gulped.

Alix waved her hand like she was swatting away a fly. "That Princess Chloe don't scare me none," she declared.

Manon clutched Adrien's leg. "_I'm_ scared of Pincess Coey," she whimpered. "She's cranky."

Adrien stroked her hair affectionately.

"Well... What about the Sheriff of Nottingham?" Nino asked. "Aren't you afraid of _him?_"

Kim blew out a raspberry. "You mean Sir Eats-a-Lot? I'd be more afraid of his _appetite_."

The kids burst out laughing.

Alix twirled her stick proudly. "Ladybug can beat that fat ol' Sheriff with one hand tied behind her back!"

Adrien lifted his eyebrows with intrigue. "Oh, you think so?"

"I _know_ so." Alix jabbed the butt of her stick into the dirt like a flag. "She's outwitted him hundreds of times, and he's never caught her _once!_"

A maniacal grin stretched across Nino's face. "Oh, really?" He let out a theatrical dark laugh and pretended to unsheathe his wooden staff like a sword. "Then have at thee, Ladybug of the Hood! I am the Sheriff of Nottingham! In the name of the princess, I challenge you to a duel!"

Everyone except Alix hustled back into the trees, their faces plastered with anticipation.

Adrien was trying hard to hold back a laugh. _If Nino weren't my attendant, he'd make a wonderful court jester_.

Nino took slow, gentle swipes at Alix. "Hyah! Take that! And this!"

Alix lifted her stick and jabbed at her opponent. "For Nottingham!" she shouted. "For King Felix!"

Nino's eyes widened, and he dropped his staff before running away shrieking with his arms in the air. Alix chased after him, whacking away with her stick.

Now there was plenty of laughter to go around. Manon was rolling in the grass, Kim and Juleka were bending over, and Rose was cheering, "Slice him to pieces!"

Even Adrien joined in on the merriment, placing his hand over his heart and crying, "Oh, save me, Milady!" before he too burst out laughing. He couldn't stop and his mouth was starting to hurt, but the lordling loved it. He hadn't laughed like this in _years!_ Not since...

Adrien's heart thumped with nostalgia again. He hadn't laughed like this since he and Marinette were together.

Alix chased Nino around a tree several times before the former jerked to a halt and spun around, whacking Nino on the leg the moment he came around.

"Ooh! Ouch! Ow! Ooh!" Nino hollered playfully, hoping one and down on one leg while caressing the other. "That's not fair!"

Again, Alix's friends fell over, gasping for breath.

"Now I've gotcha!" the pink-haired girl cheered triumphantly, jabbing her sword right underneath Nino's arm – obviously pretending to stab the "Sheriff".

The dark-skinned attendant held the staff under his arm as he let out an agonizing "Ohhhh...!". Then, he collapsed onto the grass in a twisted heap. "She got me..." he croaked, reaching to the heavens. "I'm dying..." Nino sagged against the ground, his tongue hanging out of his mouth as he played dead.

Adrien sighed with a smirk. "Oh, well. Looks like I'm going to need a new manservant."

Nino opened one eye and sneered at the young lordling. "Heaven help the poor fellow who gets stuck with _you_."

Adrien snickered. The way he and Nino made fun of each other, one would think they were brothers.

"So... now what do we do?" Alix asked, panting from all that running.

Adrien cast a sly glimpse at her, tapping his chin. "Well, _usually_, this is the part where the young lord gives his fair lady a kiss."

Rose and Juleka started giggling.

Alix's cheeks became rosy, but her eyes became cold steel when she turned to Adrien. "Don't even _think_ about it, Lover Boy."

This time, no one – not Sir Adrien, not Nino, not even Little Manon – could hold back their raucous cackling.


	7. The Noble and the Outlaw

CHAPTER SEVEN:

THE NOBLE AND THE OUTLAW

Adrien's chamber in Nottingham Castle sat at the top of the southwest tower, where he had a perfect view of both the town and Sherwood Forest.

As the young lordling peered out his open window to see the bustle and hustle of the tiny townsfolk, he remembered when he first set foot in those winding streets upon his return from London, just a few weeks ago.

Needless to say, Adrien had been shocked to see that _this_ Nottingham had no soul.

The very air had been devoid of warmth, leaving a chill that rendered everyone melancholic and paranoid. Instead of greeting Adrien with happy smiles and salutations, the people's dreary faces had told the lordling of the despair and suffering they had endured at the hands of their princess. They weren't angry – only sad. And half-starved, to top it off.

But then, like a streak of sunlight breaking through a grey sky, the people's spirits had risen immediately when their red-clad hero, Ladybug, suddenly appeared.

Adrien smiled at the memory of her: the wind whipping at her spotted cloak, the glare of sunlight catching in her bluebell eyes, and the lopsided grin she bore to the city soldiers who were failing to catch her once again.

Ladybug had been strong and graceful, leaping over boxes, sliding under carts, and climbing up onto rooftops to evade the guards. All the while, she had flung handfuls of gold coins onto the cobblestones, much to the delight of the peasantry. Nino, ever by Adrien's side, had actually _cheered_ the outlaw on.

And when Ladybug had flipped back onto the ground and looked up, her eyes met Adrien's... and they widened.

Shock, disbelief, joy, love – Adrien had seen each of those emotions swirling within the hooded blunette in the breath of a second.

The lordship himself had been just as stupefied as her. For in that instance, he didn't see Ladybug, the notorious "Red Archer" he heard so much about back in London. He didn't see the outlaw who had robbed from Princess Chloe herself in broad daylight and earned herself an execution.

No... All Adrien saw was Marinette, the baker's daughter he had taught to shoot her first arrow. He saw the peasant girl he had spent seven happy years of his childhood with. He saw the brave, selfless maiden he thought about every day over the four years he was gone.

_I don't mind the spots. It reminds me of... a _ladybug_. I like ladybugs._

Adrien remembered how he had smiled at her that day in the streets, the moment he recognized her fair, freckled face.

One second, she had smiled back at him. Her eyes looked glossy, like they were starting to tear up.

The next, she whipped down the street and vanished, leaving both Adrien and the city guards dumbfounded.

"I've seen _that_ look before."

Adrien blinked, and he was once again sitting up on the stone windowsill of his tower, gazing out into the open view.

The lordling sighed with a smirk and eased back onto the floor, turning towards Nino.

The attendant was rearranging all the pillows and cushions in the room – just one of his "keep-himself-busy" habits, as he called them. Nino would occasionally glance at his liege while he worked, which was what he was doing now with a knowing grin.

Nino gently fluffed up a pillow on the two-seater couch, keeping his cheery demeanour. "My mother once told me that love is a grand thing," he said, "and when you find that one person, the love will never leave you no matter what."

Adrien lifted an eyebrow at him as he walked over. "Then how is it you're still a bachelor?" he asked playfully.

Nino shrugged. "Haven't found the one person yet. Besides, we both know I'm not talking about _me_ here." He gave Adrien a sharp but friendly stare.

Adrien sank into the couch harder than he intended, his chin resting in his hand as he leaned upon the armrest. "You got me," he grumbled half-heartedly.

After Alix and her friends left the castle yesterday, Adrien couldn't stop imagining what it would be like if the _real_ Ladybug came swooping over the walls to set him free. Each time, the daydreams became more epic and romantic than the last, and it always left Adrien's face crimson... which Nino noticed, of course.

The loud chirp of a bluebird made Adrien look out the window again, and he could see greyish clouds moving across the sky. _Looks like it might rain_, he thought.

Confound it all! Even _rain_ made the lordling think about his lady, and those heart-stomping words she had told him when last they were together:

_You have a duty to uphold to your people; to your kingdom. You can't throw all that away for me. _Especially_ not for me._

Adrien sighed through his nose. Misery started to coat his insides with a numbing frost.

Yes, Marinette had ended their relationship, and she had a logical, ample reason to do so. But even then, Adrien had refused to give up on her. On _them_.

That notion still held to this day.

"I promised her that we would see each other again," Adrien said to Nino without looking at the attendant. "Surely she must know that I still love her."

Nino finally stopped pounding on his pillow, set it down, and then flopped onto the couch beside his friend and future lord.

"_Of course_ she does, Adrien," he assured, his sun-kissed face lit up with a smile that was far too noble for a servant. "Trust me. I may be a bachelor, but I know the kind of love the two of you share doesn't get torn apart so easily." He bumped Adrien's shoulder with a fist, his smile curling. "Just you wait. Someday – someday _soon_ – your cousin King Felix will be able to boast that he has an outlaw for an _in_-law!"

Adrien looked away as he laughed. Leave it to Master Nino of Lahiffe to turn something serious into a wholehearted, lovable joke.

Thankfully, he made Adrien less lazy and more excited and restless. He rose from his seat and instantly started pacing.

"I can't take this anymore, Nino," he said, his voice breathless and eager but his green eyes focused and determined. "All these days of waiting and being locked up aren't going to get me anywhere. There must be _something_ I can do; something that will allow me to see her again!"

Of course, Adrien knew he was kidding himself by saying that he wanted to simply "see" Marinette. What he _really_ wanted was to lift her into his arms and hold her so tightly, he could feel her heartbeat. To take her hand in his as they gazed upon the starlit canopy of midnight. To kiss her more fiercely and passionately than he ever had before, as proof of his undying love.

Nino leaned back on the couch, throwing his arms casually over the back. "Just be patient, brother. You know what they say: absence makes the heart grow fonder."

Adrien returned to the window, this time looking straight up at the blue sky and the grey clouds threatening to choke out the sunlight.

He had spent the last four years of his life suffocating under the eyes of people like Princess Chloe. Adrien knew he would never allow himself to be smothered so easily again.

_Just promise me that no matter what you do, you'll be _brilliant_ at it. Most importantly, you'll never stop being _you.

Adrien smiled. _Absence makes the heart grow fonder, huh?_

The lordling hoped so. After being away for so long, he sincerely hoped that his beloved baker's daughter hadn't decided one day to forget all about him.

* * *

Fortunately for Sir Adrien, his worries were unnecessary.

For deep in the heart of Sherwood Forest, Marinette was also daydreaming about her true love.

She was sitting on a rock while turning a ladle in the simmering pot of pork stew she was cooking up for dinner.

Behind her, Alya was hanging up laundry from a large basket to dry on a makeshift clothesline hanging between two trees. She had gone out earlier to wash the clothes and blankets by the waterfall, which concealed the entrance to the girls' hideout behind a small range of rocky hills. Now, Alya was humming a song to pass the time.

After a few minutes, Marinette started humming a tune of her own – a love ballad Nathaniel once played when Marinette and Adrien were both teenagers.

The blunette couldn't help but look up at the canopy above. Every time streaks of sunlight poked through to kiss the green leaves, the vibrant colour made Marinette think of Adrien's eyes. That memory, in turn, reminded her of the first time she saw those eyes all those years ago: so kind and empathetic, full of wonder and a desire for adventure.

Marinette sighed and rested her chin in her hand, stirring the stew aimlessly while she continued to hum away.

Four years ago, she never thought she would see Sir Adrien again. But shortly after Princess Chloe settled in Nottingham, he came back. Marinette had spotted him while she had been evading the royal guards in the streets. Even in his ragged traveller's clothes, he was still the same Adrien she remembered and loved, if not a little older... and remarkably more handsome.

Marinette smiled, remembering how light-headed she had felt at that moment. Everything else around her had whizzed by her in a blur, but Adrien was there in front her, clear as day. The way his face lit up and smiled at her... It was as if he had never left Nottingham. It was as if she had never told him that they should both move on with their separate lives.

It was as if... he still loved her.

"Hey, Mari?" Alya called softly from behind Marinette. "How's that grub coming, girl? I'm _starving_."

Either the blunette didn't hear her partner over her humming, or she was too deeply indulged in her daydreaming to pay attention. Either way, Marinette continued to think about what might happen if she ever saw Adrien again.

_Maybe I could wait until he comes back out the open_, she thought. _Then I'll pretend to bump into him and slip a love letter into his pocket... or a request to meet up again at our special place._

"Marinette? Did ya hear me?" Alya asked.

_Or maybe I could slip into his castle during one of Chloe's parties, disguised as a noblewoman..._

"Mari? Hel-lo? Ladybug?"

_And when he knows it's me, he'll ask me to dance with him, and I'll finally tell him _–

"HEY!"

Marinette's eyes snapped wide open, and she glanced around fearfully. "What? What happened? What?"

Only then did she see Alya staring at her with narrowed amber eyes, lifting one eyebrow in a suspicious manner. Alya tapped her foot dramatically on the ground, as though waiting for a reply.

Marinette smiled sheepishly. "Oh. Sorry. What did you say?" she asked.

Alya blew out an amused snort and she returned to her work. "Ah, forget it. You're mind's not on food," she said with a knowing wink. "I know that little tune you were humming. You're thinking about somebody with big _dreamy_ eyes..." She hugged her hands close to her heart and batted her eyelashes for emphasis. "... and you're smelling that sweet cologne."

Alya took a deep breath, only to grimace and gag. "In the king's name, what are you _making_?!" she snapped, turning to the pot.

Marinette looked at the stew, only to freak out when she realized that the frothy liquid was now bubbling over the rim and smoking like a bonfire.

She leapt back, dropping her ladle in the process. "Ah! Hey! Whoa! It's boiling over!" she cried, suddenly unsure what to do.

"You're burning the chow!" Alya shouted, rushing over with a yellow blanket and using it to heave the pot off the fire-pit and onto Marinette's sitting rock. Then, Alya fanned away the smoke with the blanket, turning her head away as she did so.

Once the smoke cleared up, Marinette groaned when she saw the state of her stew. "Well, I hope you like your pork stew _extremely_ well-done," she grumbled guiltily as she stirred the thick stuff with her ladle.

Alya sighed with a shrug. "Ah... It's fine. I've had overcooked meat more tough than this back at the forge." She grinned. "Seriously, my father could cook leather alongside it and you wouldn't know the difference."

Sadly, the redhead's joke didn't lift Marinette's spirits, and she dropped the ladle back into the pot with defeat. "I'm sorry, Alya."

Her partner tossed her the blanket – which was now ruined with grey patches – and took over the cooking, giving Marinette a sympathetic look. "Thinking about Adrien again?" Alya asked in a light-hearted tone that implied she already knew the answer.

Marinette wiped herself off with the blanket before staring down at it sadly. "I just can't help it," she admitted. "The day he came back, it was like a part of me returned with him." She took a deep, heartbreaking breath. "I love him, Alya. I've _always_ loved him."

Alya stared into the stew as she spoke seriously, "So why don't you stop mopin' and moanin' around and just... just marry the guy already?"

The whites of Marinette's eyes seemed to grow bigger. "_Marry_ him?!" she blurted.

"What? You don't want to?"

"No! I mean, yes! I mean... I can't...! _Ugh!_" Marinette growled, rubbing her hands through her midnight-blue hair frustratingly as she glared at her partner.

As Rena Rouge, the redhead delighted in teasing her enemies. But as Alya, she delighted in teasing Marinette, especially when it came to love. At the same time, though, Alya's teasing could be interpreted as words of wisdom, and that's what irritated Marinette so much. Alya could see the secrets of her heart long before the blunette ever could.

Marinette took a moment to think about her response before she finally turned back to Alya. "_Of course_ I want to marry Adrien," she said, her voice thick with honesty. "It's just that... You can't exactly walk up to a man you haven't seen in years and say, "Hey, hot stuff, remember me? We were kids together! Want to get married?"" Marinette chuckled half-heartedly and shook her head. "It just isn't done that way."

Alya stirred the stew as she looked up at her friend. "Aw, come on, Mari... Just do what you do best."

Marinette snorted. "And what's that? Make a fool out of myself?"

"Oh, stop being so pessimistic. You love the guy? Then go climb the castle walls!" Alya lifted her ladle, only to find a rotten carrot in it. She flicked it away with disgust before smiling back at Marinette. "Sweep him off his feet! Run off together in style! Get the happy ending you deserve."

Marinette lifted up the filthy blanket, as though it was proof of how her plans for her future always ended up ruined. She sighed and lowered the cloth. "It's no use, Alya," she said. "Life doesn't have happy endings and storybook romances. I learned that the hard way four years ago. Adrien deserves someone better." She frowned bitterly. "I mean, what have _I_ got to offer _him?_"

Alya lifted the ladle again, sniffed at it, and made a face. "Well, for one thing, you can cook... when you _want_ to," she added with a smirk.

Marinette growled again and stomped over to the clothesline. She was not in the mood for joking around with this topic. "I'm serious, Alya. Adrien's the king's cousin. You know... noble blood? A highborn lord of quality?"

Alya blew a raspberry. "So he's got class on ya. So what?"

"I'm an outlaw – _that's_ what!" Marinette snapped, glaring back at her partner.

Alya went still, her face going slack as she now realized just how much hurt Marinette was feeling at that moment.

The blunette sighed and looked away, throwing the blanket over the rope and straightening it out meticulously. "That's not the kind of life I want to enforce on someone as good and righteous as Adrien," she murmured softly. "Always being on the run, looking over your shoulder, wondering if your next day may be your last." Marinette dipped her head low, the blanket forgotten as she fought to hold back the pain bobbing up in her throat. "What kind of a future is that?"

Nothing was said between the two outlaws for a moment.

Then, Alya asked affectionately, "But wouldn't it be a future worth fighting for so long as he has _you?_"

Marinette barely glanced over her shoulder, and she managed to see the blacksmith's daughter straightening with resolve, holding up her ladle like a sceptre.

"You _are_ worth it, Marinette," Alya continued. "You've been through so much grief and pain, yet you strove to live a life of selflessness and charity. Maybe it's time for you to be selfish for a change." She smiled. "Go to Adrien. Tell him how you feel; how you've _always_ felt... and I promise you that fifty years from now, you'll both be telling this story to your grandchildren and laughing about how ridiculous you were."

Marinette couldn't help but giggle. But then she looked back at the blanket, staring at the smokey stains.

She thought of all those memories she and Adrien shared as children; all those touching moments when they could pretend that they were just two people in love and not a noble and a peasant. Just the thought of wrapping her arms around Adrien again sent Marinette's heart fluttering like a bird rattling its cage.

She had lost so much in her life. Adrien, her father, her home, her future... Surely, she could get at least _one_ of those back.

"I... I don't know, Alya," Marinette said meekly. "I can't bear the thought of him getting hurt simply because of his feelings for me." She licked her lips hard. "Besides, a tale about a lord's son eloping with a criminal doesn't exactly promise a happy ending."

A male, wispy voice groaned from beside the blunette, "Oh, for _Heaven's_ sake, child!"

Marinette yelped in surprise and stumbled back, only to trip and fall into the laundry basket.

Alya laughed. "Perfect timing, Friar," she praised. "Nate – good to see you."

Marinette half-frowned-half-smiled at their two unexpected visitors, who were both looming over her with friendly but firm expressions: Friar Fu and Nathaniel a'Dale – the only two people in Nottingham besides Ladybug and Rena Rouge who knew the location of their hideout.

"You are _not_ a criminal," Friar Fu said kindly, his brown eyes filled with fatherly wisdom. "And you are certainly no outlaw, either."

"He's right," Nathaniel stated, lifting a clenched fist with resolution. "Why, someday, you will be called a great hero – one worthy of songs and stories for generations to come!"

Marinette grinned. "A hero, huh?" She giggled and called over to her partner. "Did you hear that, Alya? We've just been pardoned!"

The auburn-haired thief lifted her head to the sky. "Ha! Now that's a gas! And we haven't even been arrested yet!"

Nathaniel scowled playfully as he walked over to the stew pot. "Oh, go on and laugh, you two rogues," he said as he picked up the ladle. "But _I'll_ the one laughing when I publish that book." The minstrel took a sip of stew, and then coughed violently. He smiled up at Alya with tears falling down his eyes. "Well-done, ain't it?"

Alya nudged her head towards Marinette. "Compliments of the chef," she jeered.

"Ha-ha," Marinette grumbled as Friar Fi helped her out of the basket. "You should see what _she_ did with the laundry."

The old priest rolled his eyes with a grin. "If you too are quite finished, perhaps you would be interested to know that there's going to be a big to-do in Nottingham."

Marinette and Alya exchanged an excited glance. A "big to-do" usually implied that some kind of celebration was being held, and it was usually hosted by either the royal family or the nobility. Those kinds of events were perfect breeding grounds for stealing, and they granted Marinette and Alya the opportunity to don disguises.

"Hmm..." Marinette said with intrigue. "And I suppose Princess Chloe is going to be the gracious host?"

Nathaniel nodded, wiping his eyes. "Her Highness is... _kof_... hosting a championship archery tournament... _kof_... in Stonefield tomorrow," he said before he cleared his throat. "Every able man in town is invited to contend for the Golden Arrow prize."

Alya folded her arms with a sneer. "An archery tournament for men?" She giggled between her teeth. "Get real. Marinette could beat 'em all while standing on her head... _and_ wearing a fake beard." She looked toward her friend. "Am I right?"

Marinette swept into a deep bow. "Thank you, Rena Rouge, but I think I'll pass on this one." She straightened and smoothed out her ponytails. "Chloe's probably using the celebration as an excuse to show herself off to the public. Or worse – find herself an unlucky suitor to wear her favour."

Friar Fu nodded sideways. "True. Both are true." His eyes sparkled with newfound mischief, and he grinned. "And now that you've mentioned it, there is _one_ archer in particular who'll be _pretty_ disappointed if you _don't_ come, Marinette."

"Let me guess: ol' Bushel Britches himself," Alya answered, drawing herself all noble-like and deepening her voice. "The _honourable_ Sheriff Roger of Nottingham."

All four friends cackled.

But then, Friar Fu said, "No, no, not _him_. Sir Adrien."

Marinette swore the ground flipped out from under her feet, sending her spiralling a hundred leagues into the air. "Adrien...?" she breathed, her mouth agape. "You mean... _Adrien_ is going to be at Stonefield?"

Just the thought of her golden-haired lordling watching from the royal box made Marinette's heart leap. Would Adrien be looking for her amongst the competitors? Was _that_ why he was attending – to catch a possible glimpse of the girl he had trained to be the greatest archer in Nottingham?

Nathaniel grinned. "Going to be there? Heck, he's going to be _competing_ for the Golden Arrow. From what I heard, Princess Chloe selected His Lordship as her personal champion... most likely to get him to wear her favour." The minstrel winked at Marinette. "But I think he'll be more than happy to wear _another_ lucky lady's favour, if you get my meaning."

A big, blushing smile rose up on Marinette's face.

Adrien would be one of the contenders, away from the prying eyes and ears of Princess Chloe and the other nobles.

If Marinette entered the lists, she would have a chance to talk to Adrien without raising too much suspicion, especially if she appeared as a boy. Most importantly, Princess Chloe _and_ Sheriff Roger would be none the wiser. Ladybug could walk right into Stonefield and no one would know it.

Maybe, _just_ maybe... Fate was smiling upon her this very moment.

Marinette couldn't hold back her excitement anymore, and she leapt into the air. "Oo-de-lally!" she cheered as she did a couple cartwheels. "Come on, Alya! What are we waiting for?!"

"Whoa, whoa! Wait a minute, LB; hold your horses!"

A series of hard footsteps in the dirt sounded, and then Alya was right beside Marinette, her face the very picture of pale, narrow-eyed concern.

"Did the smoke from the stew get to your head?" Alya blurted. "You can't just go cartwheeling into Stonefield! That place will be _crawling_ with soldiers!"

Marinette brushed herself off and put her hands on her hips, still grinning wide. "You said I should go to Adrien and tell him how I feel. Well, this is my chance!" She rushed over to the tree where she stashed her cloak, her bow, and her quiver.

Alya tipped her head to the side. "Well, yeah, I said that, but I didn't mean –"

"Don't you see, Alya?" Marinette interjected as she swung her cloak over her shoulders. "Archery brought me and Adrien together the first time, and now it's happening again!"

Nathaniel bore a surprised grin. Friar Fu looked proud, though his wrinkles were also deepening with worry.

"Mari, _please_ just hear me out." Alya emphasized that word with a voice that carried a deep, sisterly love for her fellow outlaw. "What if something happens? What if this whole thing is actually a trap?"

Now Marinette looked at her with a caring look etched with a fierce boldness. Wearing her cloak and grasping her bow always made her feel braver. "So what if it is? I'm not going to let this pass me by," she stated. "I _am_ going to be selfish for a change. I'm going to that tournament, and I'm going to confess my love to Adrien." She shrugged. "Maybe he'll return my feelings, or maybe he's already moved on. Either way, my conscience will be cleared."

Nathaniel leaned over and whispered to Friar Fu, "Remind me to note those words in my book."

Alya rubbed her temples with a groan. "I hate all _three_ of you right now, you know that?" she muttered. She then blew out a long breath before saying to Marinette, "All right, all right... If it means that much to you, I'm with you the whole way."

Marinette beamed.

"But..." The redhead lifted a sun-kissed finger. "What if, in the off-chance, Queen Bee actually grows a brain and suspects something?"

Marinette sneered. Then, in one fluid motion, she drew an arrow, nocked it, aimed offside, and fired.

The arrow bounced off a frying pan lying on the ground, then a canteen of water hanging from a tree branch, and then it went shooting up over Marinette's head... until the red-hooded archer snatched up the arrow lighting-fast in one hand and spun around to a stop.

Alya, Friar Fu, and Nathaniel stared at her with awe, and any anxiety they had was forgotten.

Ladybug gave her companions a smug smile. "Then I'll give Her Haughtiness a performance she'll never forget," she replied staunchly, twirling her red-fletched arrow in her fingers.


	8. Secret Affairs

CHAPTER EIGHT:

SECRET AFFAIRS

Stonefield was once the site of a grand castle, until it was claimed by a terrible fire many generations ago.

Today, all that remained was a lush, flat plain of grass, and the two twin guard towers that were miraculously spared from the fire.

Atop those towers, six trumpeters blared the royal anthem, welcoming the crowd of people pouring into the tourney grounds.

Children dragged their parents around and pointed at the large, colourful tents. Tall posts stuck out of the ground, almost as high as trees, and celebratory banners hung between them. The field where the archery tournament was to take place was further ahead, with several round targets set up in a neat row.

About a dozen archers – both noble and common – mingled in and around the tents, exchanging well-wishes or otherwise getting their gear ready. Servants and friends wandered around to assist the archers if needed.

Most of the onlookers had to stand, but there were a few benches and stands where some of the townsfolk could sit and watch the competition. Some of the children climbed up into the bordering trees to get a better view. Everyone was waving a flag that bore the colours of their favourite archer.

The nobility took up seats in their own private boxes, which were placed along the front of the tourney grounds where they could see everything. The men mingled with one another to discuss political affairs, while the women sat together and fanned each other from the heat, gossiping about whose son or nephew would most likely be the champion.

As always, the best seat in the house was the royal box. It had all the comforts of palace luxury, including a cushioned throne, a deep-blue carpet, and a tent-like covering of sky-blue with an elaborate golden overhang.

Princess Chloe sat upon the throne, dressed more beautifully than anyone in Stonefield. Her sparkling gown was all gold, with accents of white and black along the front, and her sleeves were tight-fit and then loose and frilly at the elbows. Upon her sun-streaked ponytail was her brother's crown. A diamond choker was wrapped around the princess's neck, and her fingers were once again adorned with jewelled rings; new ones to replace the ones Ladybug had stolen. In addition, Chloe's eyes were painted a faint blue to match her eyes, and her lips were smeared with pale pink gloss.

This was the day Chloe wanted to look her absolute best: the day when she would finally capture Ladybug!

The princess chuckled as she leaned back in her chair. "Ah, Sabrina," she said to her companion in the smaller seat, "this will be a red-letter day. A _coup d'état_, to coin the Norman phrase."

Sabrina giggled and bounced in her seat, making her teal-dress puff out a bit. Unlike most of the outfits she wore, this one was complete with puffed sleeves, laced cuffs, and a pointed hat with a gossamer veil hanging from the tip.

"Oh, yes, indeed, my princess!" Sabrina squealed ecstatically. "Your plan to capture Ladybug in public is sure genius!"

Chloe huffed and lifted her chin. "Well, _of course_ it's genius," she said through her nose. "I'm the queen."

Sabrina instantly dipped her head. "Apologies, Your Majesty. Absolutely, Your Majesty."

Chloe smiled with satisfaction.

Her plan was _absolute_ genius. Not even Ladybug, the greatest archer in Nottingham, could resist the challenge to participate in an archery tournament as grand as this one. Better yet, Sir Adrien would be one of the contenders, and almost everyone knew that he was an old friend of the red-hooded renegade.

Chloe still couldn't fathom how someone as perfect and regal as Adrien could ever be friends with a former pastry bumpkin who had become a criminal. But it mattered not. Adrien was promised to Chloe (or so she would have herself believe). She had even given the young lordling of Agreste her favour to wear for the tournament: a shiny, golden, bee brooch encrusted with emeralds to match Adrien's eyes. No girl could match _that_.

The princess sneered, her face darkening, and she clasped her hands together. "My trap is baited and set," she gloated, "and when the time is right, I'll have my revenge." She purred and sat up with delight. "Oh, I just love that word. _Revenge!_"

"Shh!" Sabrina jabbed a finger to her lips before glancing around. Then, she leaned over to whisper in Chloe's ear. "Not so loud, Your Highness. Remember, only you and I know about the plan. The capture of Ladybug _must_ remain a secret. At least, until the time is right, of course."

Chloe recoiled with distaste and curled her manicured fingers over the ends of the armrests like claws. "I am well aware of that, Sabrina," she grumbled. "It's just..." She bore her teeth and contorted her brow. "That _insolent_ wench... Thinking she could steal from me and then laugh in my face? _Oooohhh!_" Chloe clenched her fists in rage. "I'll show her who wears the crown!"

The princess straightened up sharply, causing her crown to slip down over her eyes. With a bitter sigh, Chloe lifted it back into its proper position.

Sabrina folded her hands together with a curt nod, obviously trying to hide her amusement about the crown mishap. "I share your loathing, my princess," she stated, staring off into the distance. "That scurrilous scoundrel who fooled you with that silly disguise; that measly maid who made secret trysts with Sir Adrien behind your back..."

Chloe slowly turned her head in her handmaiden's direction, her lip and nose twitching with irritation.

Unfortunately, Sabrina didn't notice and just kept going. "That theatrical thief who dared to rob you and made you look so utterly ridiculous!"

Chloe almost flew out of her seat as she drew herself up higher. "_Enough!_" she hissed.

Sabrina finally had the decency to cover her mouth, her face almost red as her hair. She cast Chloe a fearful, apologetic look.

Thankfully, the princess was too excited about the upcoming tournament to bother dishing out punishment. _Yet_.

So all she did was wave a finger at her attendant. "Sabrina, you will do well to keep that chatty mouth of yours shut for the rest of the day." She leaned back in her throne and mumbled under her breath, "Utterly ridiculous..."

Sabrina shrank back into her own chair. "Y-Y-Yes. Th-Th-Thank you... um, Your Highness," she stammered. Then, she wiped her forehead with a soft sigh of relief.

This was going to be a _long_ day.

* * *

Adrien finished adjusting the straps of his leather gauntlet before flexing his arm proudly.

He ruffled his golden hair a bit before stepping outside his tent to find Nino, who leaned against a nearby post with his arms folded.

"Well, how do I look?" Adrien asked, placing his hands on his hips with a suave smile.

Nino glanced up and down once and smirked. "Like someone trying to impress a girl," he commented wryly. "You fit into the "dashing rogue" model quite nicely."

It was true. Adrien looked less like a noble heir and more like a nightly scoundrel. He wore a tight-fit, forest-green tunic with long, black sleeves and finger-less gloves. He also had black pants, matching leather gauntlets and boots, and a ringed belt from which hung a couple of sheathed knives. His short cape and hood was black on the outside, but green on the inside. All together with his spikier hair and feline grin, Sir Adrien of Agreste looked more like an outlaw himself; a real _chat noir_, to put it in French terms.

"Dashing, huh?" Adrien purred. "Do you think my lady will think so as well?" He dared not say the names "Marinette" or "Ladybug" in public, especially with Chloe's guards patrolling the grounds.

Nino shrugged. "She'd better, lest you end up vying for the _princess's_ affections."

Adrien frowned like he swallowed a mouthful of bad medicine.

He knew Nino was referring to the bee brooch Chloe sent him earlier, which Adrien then gave to a passing archer immediately after. The lordling had received numerous fancy gifts from Chloe in the past, and all of them carried the same unsubtle message: her desire to woo Adrien and make him her royal consort and king.

Adrien sighed with a grouch. "Chloe doesn't love me, Nino," he said. "Not truly. She looks at me and sees everything that goes with me if we were to wed."

Nino frowned. "Doesn't she realize she's wasting her time with you?" he asked.

"You know Chloe – once she sets her eye on something, she'll do whatever it takes to claim what she thinks is hers."

It made Adrien all the more nervous about the idea of Marinette showing up for the archery tournament. Would his beloved dare to risk being out in the open with Chloe so close, even in disguise? Would the princess be fooled a second time? Was Adrien competing for nothing?

_No_, he thought determinedly as he picked up his bow and started testing the string. _My lady will come. I can feel it in my bones._

Almost instantly, Adrien's doubt melted away to reveal excitement. "I'm done worrying about Chloe," he told Nino. "Right now, I'm worried that I won't recognize my _true_ princess when I see her."

Nino walked over and patted his friend on the back. "She'll let you know somehow. After all, she has just as much taste in fashion as you do."

Adrien chuckled.

* * *

Marinette and Alya crept low in the bushes just on the edge of Sherwood Forest, where the valley of Stonefield and all its grandeur opened up before them.

Once they were certain they wouldn't be spotted, Marinette glimpses over everything in the field: the crowd, the royal boxes, the tents, the contenders...

... and when she spotted Adrien – laughing to his companion in all his black, shaggy-haired, roguish glory – Marinette suddenly forgot who she was and where she was.

It always made her smile to see Adrien, even when they were kids. That's not including the quickened pulse in her chest and the occasional sudden draw of breath. It made Marinette all the more convinced that she was doing the right thing coming here to Stonefield, no matter what price was on her head.

"Look, Alya..." Marinette whispered, shaking her friend by the shoulder and never stealing her gaze away from her handsome knight. "There he is. By that tent." She sighed dreamily, stood up, and started to inch away from the cover of the forest. "Isn't he amazing? So bold and sharp and handsome..."

A hand grappled onto Marinette's shoulder and yanked her back so hard, she tumbled back into the bushes with a tiny "Eyah!"

"Cool your heels, Juliet," Alya said dryly, her raven-black wig swaying like a bird's nest on the wind.

The wig was a precaution Rena Rouge had to take, given that Princess Chloe had seen her red hair. But she certainly hadn't seen the outlaw in a noblewoman's clothes: a long and fuchsia-coloured dress that was big in the skirt and tight in the middle, complete with sleeves draping at the elbows and a broad, white collar that fanned out behind the neck.

"Your heart's running away with your head," Alya said softly, poking her closed fan at Marinette's chest. "If you're not careful, you could end up losing _both_ of them."

Marinette scrambled back up and brushed herself off coolly, being careful not to ruin her own new attire. "Oh, stop worrying," she sighed.

She stepped out into the sunlight, spreading out her arms for emphasis.

Even at close range, no one tell that the small, scrawny man was actually Ladybug herself. She hid her white uniform and leathers under an oversized brown tunic that went past her torso. Marinette also wore broad hawking gloves with thick fingers to make her hands more masculine, and her brown boots were big and bulky. Underneath a broad round hat, Marinette's midnight-blue hair was concealed by a wig of straw-like brownish-gold hair, and the area above her upper lip was plastered with a matching fake moustache. Finally, a single black eye-patch covered Marinette's left eye. She would need her good eye to shoot during the competition.

"See?" the young outlaw said, lifting her bold moustache up with a sly twitch. "This disguise is so full-proof, I'd fool my own mother."

Alya's own face crinkled with amusement. "Yeah, but your mom ain't here. You've gotta fool ol' Bushel Britches over there." She twirled a delicate hand and pointed towards one of the passing archers.

Marinette grinned as she caught sight of her quarry: the one and only Sheriff Roger of Nottingham.

He was strutting through the tourney grounds like he was already a winner, his big belly shaking as he walked. He was chuckling to himself and staring off into space all smarmy-like.

Marinette and Alya exchanged a silent glance before the former winked and strode out into the open.

The disguised blunette made sure to keep her steps hard and heavy, like a drunk stumbling out of a tavern. She also hunched over a bit as though the bow and quiver on her back were weighing her down.

Marinette came up beside Roger, almost startling him, and she spoke in a thick, deep, Irish-accent: "Sheriff o' Notting'em?"

Roger looked at her uncomfortably, quickly taking in her haggard appearance... and the eyepatch. "Um, yes?" he uttered.

Marinette grasped his hand excitedly and shook it with rigorous force. "Well, I'll be bless't! Meetin' ya face ta face is a real treat! A real _treat!_"

The Sheriff wobbled unsteadily from the over-exaggerative handshake, so much that his hat slipped off a bit to the side. When Marinette finally stopped, Roger quickly pulled away with an awkward smile. "Well, hehe... That's mighty kind of you, good sir," he said as he spruced himself up and puffed out his chest. "Now, if you'll _kindly_ excuse me, I've got a tournament to win."

And with that, the Sheriff of Nottingham meandered away without a second thought or a second glance at the strange archer he had just met.

Marinette smirked. _So far so good._

* * *

Alya couldn't help but smile with intrigue as she watched her best friend walk away unscathed.

"Maybe Mari's right," she murmured to herself. "Maybe I _do_ worry too much."

If an outlaw as clever and elusive as Ladybug could survive four years without being caught by the Sheriff and his posse, she could undoubtably survive Princess Chloe.

That being said, Rena Rouge wasn't one to take risks. Hence the reason she was dressed all prim and proper.

"Mari's not a bad actress," Alya mused, unfurling her fan and drawing herself up, "but wait until she sees _this_ scene I lay on Queen Bee."

Lifting her chin high, the foxy outlaw walked daintily towards the royal box like a queen strutting about her own castle.

Many archers and guards stopped to take a look at Alya, some drooling like dogs at the window of a butcher's shop. Alya ignored them and moved on, her vision tunnelled towards her single target.

As expected, Princess Chloe and Lady Sabrina were not surprised to see another noblewoman coming up to humbly greet the king's sister. Both ladies just stared down at their new guest with cool, collected indifference.

Alya approached the front of the steps and curtsied deeply. "Ah, Your Grace," she said with a regal, grown-up tone. Unlike Ladybug, she had no need to disguise her voice as well as her looks. "My esteemed royal sovereign of the realm; the Crown Jewel herself." She looked up at Chloe with sparkling interest. "_Tu es belle comme le soleil_."

The princess's thin, golden eyebrows inched up, and her mouth curled. "Mmmm... She has style, doesn't she, Sabrina?" she asked her handmaiden while still looking at Alya. Then, without waiting for an answer, Chloe said in the same French accent, "_Tu savoir faire il y a, n'est pas?_"

Alya giggled into her fan, knowing with smug satisfaction that she easily won the princess over. "You took the words right out of my mouth, PC."

Chloe blinked with a childish smile. "PC... I like it! You know, I really do. Sabrina, put it on my luggage. PC!" She let out a dramatic, nasal laugh (with a snort or two in between) and then sat back in her throne, murmuring the nickname again to herself.

The beady-eyed maidservant, however, didn't share her mistress's light-heartedness. Sabrina glanced annoyingly between Chloe and Alya, her face scrunched with suspicion. Finally, Sabrina let out a tiny "Hmph" and rose from her chair to meet Alya eye-to-eye.

The disguised outlaw accepted the stare-down with a look of regal boredom.

"And _you?_" Sabrina asked with a chipped tone. "Who might _you_ be, Madam?"

Alya dipped her head again, careful not to fling her wig off. "I am Lady Alyanne, Duchess of Chutney, and I am here to..."

"Chutney? Ha!" Sabrina sneered. "Why, I have never heard of such a place in England."

Alya didn't twitch. If there was one hidden weapon she possessed, it was her wit. "That's because it's not _in_ England. Chutney is a French holding belonging my father, but my mother was English." Alya frowned distastefully at Sabrina. "And don't interrupt me again, kid."

The princess's lady-in-waiting turned red in the face.

"Ooh, a French noble!" Princess Chloe clapped her hands. "How quaint. You are most welcome, Lady Alyanne. Permit me, may I call you Aly?"

"But of course!" Alya stepped around the agitated Sabrina and took up Chloe's hand. "And now, Your Mightiness, allow me to lay some protocol on you."

She barely bent her head to kiss the princess's hand before Chloe slipped out of her grasp like a snake, clutching her hand to her chest with fearful blue eyes.

"Oh, no, no... Forgive me, but I lose more jewels that way," Chloe said with a hint of embarrassment.

_I wonder why_, Alya thought as she held back a laugh in her throat.

Sadly, Sabrina heard it. "Something amuses you, Duchess?" she asked lowly, her teal eyes narrowed.

Once again, Alya was ready for her, and she swished around in her dress to lift the handmaiden's chin with her fan. "As a matter of fact, my dear," Alya pointed out with a smirk, "that droopy hat does _not_ complement you very well. Perhaps you should consider wearing a baby bonnet to go with your whiny attitude."

Princess Chloe threw her head back and cackled, the sound of it grating on Alya's ears.

Sabrina's eyes bulged with humiliation and shock. "Whiny?!" She gritted her teeth like an angry squirrel whose nut had been taken away. "_You_, Madam, certainly have a lot of pepper in your tone for a French woman!"

This time, Chloe leaned over one of her armrests as she struggled to breathe.

And this time, Alya decided to join her.

"Oh, Sabrina!" Chloe gasped, wiping her eyes. "With _you_ around, who needs a court-jester?"

Before long, the two ladies' combined laughter made Sabrina's pride falter little by little, and she shrank in her spot like an owl tucking its head into its body.

When Chloe finally let out a deep sigh and relaxed, she cast an icy glance at her humbled lady-in-waiting. "Now then, if you're quite finished being humorous, get out there and keep your suspicious eyes open for _You-Know-Who_." Her tone implied something dark and devious when she phrased those last words.

It made Alya stiffen. _Does Queen Bee mean Marinette?_ she wondered with fresh concern. _Is she expecting her to show up?_

Whatever the princess meant, Alya was glad to be here in the royal box. Rena Rouge was always Ladybug's back-up plan.

Sabrina gave her mistress an appalling look. "You... You mean I... I'm being dismissed?" she blubbered pathetically.

Alya looked down her nose at the snivelling redhead. "You heard Her Majesty," she said strictly. "Move it, creepy. Get lost! Be gone, Nosy One!"

The foxy outlaw caught the handmaiden's mortifying glare before the latter lifted her skirt, stomped down the short steps, and slithered off onto the grass with the rest of her dignity.

Princess Chloe cleared her throat and offered Alya a sultry smirk. "Please, Aly, sit down." She gestured to Sabrina's vacated chair.

Alya flopped down onto the seat. "Thanks, PC," she said cheerily as she sat back and gazed after the angry Sabrina.

The thief hoped the suspicious servant wouldn't be a problem for her, or for Ladybug.

Thankfully, that's what they had the _second_ back-up plan for.

* * *

Lady Sabrina muttered the whole way with frustration, throwing her hands into the air. "I have never been so insulted! Creepy?! Whiny?! _Nosy One?!_" She growled and looked back at the royal box with pure loathing. "Who does that dopey duchess think she is? Well, I'll show her soon enough. Her and the princess _both!_"

The maidservant then continued on her way... never even noticing the brown-robed priest and the young minstrel in the blue, puffed jacket observing her from the sidelines.

Friar Fu and Nathaniel slipped silent as the grave between two tents as they peered at the miffed Sabrina. The former scratched his bearded chin with a calculative gaze.

But it was Nathaniel who voiced the old man's thoughts. "Now she's up to something, Friar. Aside from the obvious, why would Chloe send her away?"

"Reconnaissance, my young friend," Fu whispered. "I believe Alya's suspicions were correct. The princess must somehow suspect that Ladybug has secretly entered the tournament, and she has sent her attendant to investigate."

Nathaniel scowled, clenching his lute with crushing strength. "If she recognizes Marinette and reports to Chloe..."

"We're here to ensure that doesn't happen." Friar Fu calmly beckoned his companion forward. "Come. Let's see where our esteemed lady's search will lead us. And Nathaniel? Try not to look conspicuous."

"_Pfft_. No need to worry about _me_, Friar," Nathaniel said with a grin. "I'm a minstrel."

"Precisely my point."

"I don't see what... Oh, ha-ha. Very funny, old man."


	9. The Archery Tournament

**LXP: This chapter is told with a mixture of second-person/omniscient and third-person perspective. Also one of those "let's get this over with" chapters, so pardon the hastiness.**

**Enjoy! :)**

* * *

CHAPTER NINE:

THE ARCHERY TOURNAMENT

Marinette moved through the sea of tents, keeping her eyes peeled for the Sheriff or any of Chloe's guards, until she arrived at her destination.

With a deep, ragged breath that made her throat abnormally dry, Marinette eased the tent flap open with careful fingers and peered inside.

Adrien had his back to her. He was kneeling over his quiver, fumbling with the loosened strap and trying to tighten it up. His shoulder blades poked against the back of his tunic as he worked, and the sight of them made Marinette's cheeks warm underneath her fake moustache.

Just then, the lordling's golden head lifted up, and it was eerily quiet inside the tent. Adrien didn't flinch or move a finger. He just kneeled there like a hunter waiting for his prey to look away.

Marinette actually considered backing away and lowering the flap... when her beloved's intrigued voice stopped her:

"Only one person I know can sneak up behind _me._"

Marinette froze, trying not to gasp. _He even _sounds_ the same!_ she thought.

"The funny thing is," Adrien continued, his head cocking to the side with sly curiousness, "I haven't seen her in four years. Perhaps I'm just imagining things. Perhaps I... I _want_ to believe she's here, after all this time."

That fluttery shock inside Marinette's heart eased off, and a joyous smile grew on her face. "I'd say you're imagining things," she said in her normal voice; softly so that no one else could hear... but still carrying that playful edge.

A small chuckle escaped Adrien, and Marinette knew he was smiling too.

The lordling stood up slowly. "Is it safe?" His tone was laced with caution.

She knew what he meant.

In one quick movement, she stepped fully into the tent, and the flap drew shut behind her.

In another quick movement, her moustache was off and her wig and hat were swept behind her head, revealing her frizzled mop of midnight-blue hair.

"You tell me," Marinette whispered with a sultry slur.

Adrien turned around. He saw her. He grinned.

It was the most wonderful thing Marinette could ever hope for.

"Love the eyepatch," Adrien said, his mouth curling up in one corner.

_Oh, darn it!_ Marinette scowled and lifted the thing up, blinking her vision back to normal. "Love the Cat Noir look," she commented back. "All you need now is a mask and a tail to go with your swagger."

This time, Adrien's grin broke across his face.

Then, he moved faster than the snapping jaws of an alligator.

Marinette caught him just as he caught her, and suddenly she was being twirled off the ground, and she was gathering his golden hair in her fingers as she nestled against his shoulder, and she breathed in his leathery noble smell, and she smiled from the warmth of him pressing against her thundering chest.

She was floating on a cloud, basking in the rays of the sun and letting it still her blood and her veins.

When she came back down to earth, Adrien was embracing her tighter and sighing into her ear, "I've missed you... I've missed you so much, Milady."

Marinette giggled, her heart flooding with relief while all the years of misery and doubt faded away. "I've missed you too, silly kitty," she whispered. "Every day."

They eased apart and stared into each other's eyes: emerald and aquamarine; earth and sky.

"I know I shouldn't be here..." Marinette began, her voice shaking.

"But I'm glad you are," Adrien finished for her, brushing a finger along her face. "I told you we'd see each other again."

Marinette closed her eyes, the soft caress of his hand sending a watery shiver down her spine. By the king's good name, how she missed this!

"I know," she said, opening her eyes just so she could recapture his smile in her memory. "I never stopped believing it. I was just..." She swallowed, her cheeks creasing with guilt. "I was afraid you would actually heed my advice and marry a wealthy, blonde heiress who would throw you such extravagant parties."

Adrien snorted. "Trust me. I've had my fill of "extravagant" parties. And besides, I prefer blunettes."

Only then did Marinette realize that his nose was barely touching hers, and her lips tingled from his breath upon them. She longed to stand up on her toes and kiss him. Maybe, just for a moment...

_DaaDaaDaaDAAAAAA!_

Marinette and Adrien gasped, straightening back as trumpets sounded outside the tent.

The lordling's grumble of annoyance reminded the blunette of an angry cat. "It's starting," he said.

The tournament. Right. Of course.

Marinette cursed herself. Why didn't she just say what she came here to say? Why did she have to lose her focus? What if she never got another chance?

But she forced herself to not lose hope. She merely reached back into her quiver and pulled something out.

It wasn't an arrow, but it was red. And it still struck Adrien so swiftly that it made his eyes widen when it saw it.

"Here," Marinette said, extending it to her childhood friend with a loving smile. "My favour. Take it as a promise."

She took his hand and curled his fingers around her gift before grasping both of them staunchly, her bluebell eyes never leaving Adrien's astounded green ones.

"When this is over, I'll tell you everything," Marinette vowed. "_Everything._"

Adrien stared at the rose he now held in his hand. When he looked back up at his lady, his face softened with understanding and unwavering loyalty. "I wish you luck, Milady... with all my heart," he added that last bit with a purr.

Marinette sighed, gave him one loving glance, and then let go.

In one effortless motion, the outlaw slapped her moustache and eyepatch back on. Then, she yanked down her brown wig and hat before tearing out of the tent in the blink of an eye.

* * *

Even after his beloved was gone, Adrien never stopped smiling.

She came! She managed to slip under Chloe's nose and find him after all!

How long the ruse would last, Adrien couldn't be certain. But he was certain of one thing: his lady still loved him enough to risk exposure and come here to see him. His greatest wish was finally answered.

The lordling lifted the red rose to his nostrils and breathed in deeply, savouring the earthy fragrance. He sighed, feeling like he could take on all the troubles of the world without a hitch.

He hooked the rose onto his quiver pin and grinned with content when it stayed there. No royal, golden brooch could _ever_ beat a gift as precious as this.

_When this is over_, Adrien told himself as he parted the tent flaps and walked with proud confidence into the blinding daylight, _I'm going to ask that girl to marry me. And _this_ time, I'll never leave her side again._

* * *

Meanwhile, Lady Sabrina was meandering innocently through the camp until something peculiar caught her eye.

Two archers were exiting the same tent. The first was a pirate-of-a-man with thick, gloved hands and skinny legs. The second was Sir Adrien.

The sight of the princess's unrequited crush piqued Sabrina's interest, and the maidservant cast a good long look at the other archer walking away.

He _looked_ like a simple, haggard peasant. But... What was he doing in Adrien's tent? And why was he in such a hurry to get away _right_ after the trumpet blare?

The hat. The eyepatch. The loose clothing.

"Hmm... I wonder," Sabrina murmured, and an idea sprouted in her head.

Instead of following the stranger, she headed off in the direction of the archery field.

With any luck, after a little observation, the princess's spy would get the answer she hoped for.

* * *

_DaaDaaDaaDAAAAAA! DaaDaaDaaDaa! DaaDaaDaaDaa! DaaDaaDaaDAAAAAAAAAA!_

The trumpeters from atop the twin watchtowers blew the triumphant melody for all in Stonefield to hear.

The crowd hushed themselves to silence as the assembly of archers marched single-file onto the open stretch of grass where the tournament would take place.

There were about ten in total – young men and old men from in and around Nottingham, each with a quiver on his back and a bow slung over his shoulder.

As the last entry, Marinette lingered at the back of the line, keeping her posture heavy to complement her disguise.

Right in front of her was Sheriff Roger, proud and oblivious as ever.

A few spots ahead was Sir Adrien, who walked at a steady pace and smiled kindly at a group of waving children in the crowd.

Marinette recognized one of the kids as teal-hooded Alix and her troupe of friends. Nadja and Manon also stood beside Alix, the former holding her youngest daughter up in her arms while she squirmed excitedly.

The line passed by the row of boxes first, where Princess Chloe and the nobility were watching.

Her Highness skimmed over each archer with a contemplative gaze, her regal smile welcoming but foreboding.

On her right was Alya. She fanned herself aggressively, though it wasn't exactly the summer sun that was making her sweat. She purposefully tried not to let her amber eyes stay on Marinette for too long, and instead pretended to swoon over the younger men as they strode by.

On the princess's far left sat Master Nino, whom Chloe reluctantly allowed in the royal box at Sir Adrien's request. There was a another seat reserved for the lordling as well, which Nino wisely put between him and Her Haughtiness.

Each archer bowed before Princess Chloe and stated his name, allowing a bony herald to scribble it onto a scroll.

Marinette felt a hot pin in her gut when she saw the gagging look Chloe gave Adrien as he gave his introduction expressionlessly. But when the princess's eyes cut to the red rose on Adrien's quiver strap, and her sappy smile became cold and bitter like cracked ice, Marinette couldn't help but grin.

Soon after, when it was the outlaw's turn, she bent low – making sure her hat and wig didn't slip off – and said in her Irish accent, "Squire Locksley of Devonshire!"

The herald's pen flew across the parchment, and Chloe waved her hand in an idle acknowledgment.

Marinette blew out a tiny sigh of relief as she rejoined her fellow archers at the starting line.

She quickly eyeballed the targets and counted the numbers in her head: ten archers, each with a target set up ten paces away.

They would all have three chances to hit the target and score points on the coloured rings. The best seven shooters moved on to the next round: shooting at _fifteen_ paces. The best five would fire at _twenty_, and finally, two contestants would be chosen for the final and hardest challenge: _thirty_ paces.

Marinette's veins thrummed with adrenaline. _This is going to be fun_, she thought, stealing a glance at Adrien.

He caught her stare briefly and winked. _May the best man win_, the gesture said.

She glared at him teasingly. _We'll see._

The Captain of the Guard, a crocodile-of-a-man dressed in red with a sharp jaw and gangly limbs, paraded up to the royal box. He was carrying a purple-velvet pillow, upon which sat the prize of today's contest: the Golden Arrow in all it's elegant, shimmering, twenty-four-carat glory.

"Your Highness," the Captain said with a bow, presenting the pillow to Princess Chloe. "With your royal permission, we are ready to begin."

Chloe smiled and sat back in her seat, waving her bejewelled hand. "Proceed, Captain," she stated.

The crocodile-man spun to face the crowd, his red cape whipping around him. Then, he announced in a deep, croaky voice, "The Tournament of the Golden Arrow will now begin!"

The trumpeters played the archer's fanfare once again, and the audience cheered, waving their flags and shouting the names of their favourite contenders.

Once the clamour died down, the two royal drummers played a loud, suspenseful roll.

It was time to ready the arrows.

All ten archers nocked their arrows in perfect unison, aimed at their corresponding targets, and – when the drums stopped – fired.

_Thunk-Thunk-Thunk, Thunk-Thunk!_

Ten arrows struck the circular mats. Most were in the outer white or yellow rings, a few were embedded in the inner blue and red rings, and only one struck the central black dot: Marinette's arrow.

Beside her, Sheriff Roger bristled. "You just got lucky," he told her. "Everyone's always lucky on their first shot."

Marinette just grinned, noticing how the Sheriff's arrow had just barely made the red ring.

Meanwhile, Princess Chloe surveyed the shots with a hum, and she tapped her ringed fingers on her armrest. "A perfect bullseye," she mused when she spotted Squire Locksley's arrow, and her mouth curled. "Hmm... well, well."

Alya smiled behind her fan. "That's what you call throwing it back and letting it go, PC," she told the princess. Then, she cast a wary look over at her friend on the field.

The next few minutes were filled with the twangs of bows and the delightful cheers and whistles of the townsfolk. The archers took their turns to fire their next two shots, and everyone held their breath every time one of them drew back an arrow.

When it was Adrien's turn to take his second shot, he lifted his arrow up a smidge against the faint breeze... and fired.

_TWACK!_ Bullseye.

The crowd applauded. Alix whooped while Manon squealed from her mother's arms. Kim, Max, Rose, and Juleka each waved a flag for their noble friend.

The Sheriff was next. He got a bullseye as well.

This time, the crowd booed for their "honourable" tax-collector. Roger reeled with a surprised frown.

Marinette barely finished aiming before she fired her arrow in half-a-second.

It hit the black dot proudly, and the people cheered once again. Even Adrien and a few other archers clapped for Marinette in commemoration for her shot.

Back in the royal box, Princess Chloe grinned. "A _double_ header," she said, her blue eyes sparkling in thought. "Intriguing."

"Hey, don't give the guy too much credit, PC," Alya said. "There's still a lot of good shots out there."

Chloe smiled sweetly at her. "Of course, Duchess." She sighed and murmured with honeyed darkness, "I have no doubt the most cunning archer in Nottingham will reveal himself here today."

_Or _her_self_, the princess thought with grim satisfaction. _Oh, yes. The final piece is almost in place._

* * *

Before long, the first round was over.

Seven archers – including Sir Adrien, Sheriff Roger, and "Squire Locksley" – waited for the groundskeepers to set up new targets at fifteen paces.

Once again, Stonefield sounded with the melodic twangs of bows and the rhythmic percussion of arrows.

As the Captain of the Guard called out the tallies, the crowd danced and pounded their fists when "Squire Locksley" and Sir Adrien advanced to the third round, along with Max's father Gustave, a young hedge knight named Sir Tristan of York... and the Sheriff of Nottingham (who was booed once again).

Meanwhile, Lady Sabrina crept along the bushes bordering the field, keeping her teal eyes locked on "Squire Locksley" every time he took a shot.

Even the _way_ he moved while shooting made Sabrina suspicious: such finesse and ease and carelessness. It was far too... _graceful_. And it carried a familiar, mischievous aura that made Sabrina's bones rattle, just like they had on the day Ladybug and Rena Rouge robbed Princess Chloe.

Sabrina decided to move in behind the archers, her dress and hair covered in leaves and twigs.

Meanwhile, "Squire Locksley" was getting all excited and bouncing in his spot while Sheriff Roger tried to concentrate.

"I'm goo-ing win the Golden Arroh!" the moustached Irishman rasped. "An' then, I'm gonna present meself to the people of Notting'em, an' then I'm gonna...!"

Roger lowered his bow and whirled on his opponent. "Listen, _Chatterhat_," he groaned darkly. "If you shoot half as good as you blabbermouth, you're better than Ladybug."

Locksley gasped. "_Ladybug_, he says! Wow-wee!" He clapped the Sheriff on the back and then twirled his bow. "I'm tip-top, all right, but I'm not as good as _that_ lassy is."

And, without even looking at his target, the Squire of Devonshire took his next shot.

Bullseye again.

The Sheriff's mouth dropped with shock, and the people stomped their proud approval.

Not too far away, Alya leaned over to Princess Chloe and said, "Perhaps I was mistaken. The man's certainly got class, doesn't he, PC?"

A few silent seconds passed before Chloe realized someone was talking to her. She straightened up hastily and cleared her throat. "Oh, yes, Aly. Most definitely. Bravo! Bravo!" She clapped in a delicate manner.

Alya shivered at the sharp focus in the princess's eyes, like a hawk swooping in to catch a fish. She hoped it was nothing, but she told herself to remain vigilant in case Queen Bee actually _did_ suspect that the Squire of Devonshire was really Ladybug in disguise.

Back on the field, Sir Adrien moseyed up to Roger and pretended to examine his arrow as he addressed the rotund redhead. "Speaking of Ladybug, Sheriff, aren't _you_ the one who's been chasing her down these past few years?"

Roger's smugness returned. "Oh, absolutely, Your Lordship." He pounded his chest with his fist. "Rest assured, _I'll_ be the one to bring that traitorous pastry-wench to the king's justice soon enough."

Adrien tried not to snort at that, but the Sheriff's words made his blood boil. The _king's_ justice; as if King Felix was the one who called for Ladybug's head.

The young lordling reeled in his anger and cast Roger a feline grin. "I appreciate your enthusiasm, Sheriff. But, um... I would have thought you'd have caught the girl by now, seeing as she's only _one_ outlaw, and you have a whole _squadron_."

Roger blinked, and then frowned with the redness of humiliation and wounded pride. "She's _scared_ of me, that's what she is," he retorted. "You noticed she didn't show up here today? I wish she had! I could spy that pretty little insect through any of her phoney disguises."

Adrien didn't know whether he should laugh at Roger or pity him. _And Chloe made _him_ the Sheriff?_ The lordling shook his head with distaste, clicking his tongue in silence.

Across from Roger, Squire Locksley prepared his last arrow for the final shot at twenty paces.

Right behind him, Lady Sabrina inched out of the bushes and peered up at the archer, covering her head with a leafy branch to make herself more treelike.

Locksley's arrow zipped away, and everyone followed it to see it hit the target dead-on once more.

But while everyone was watching the squire's arrow, Sabrina was staring at the squire's _face_.

The force of the arrow had caused the corner of Locksley's moustache to peel off, revealing smooth, unblemished skin underneath. For a brief moment, Locksley's lips appeared in their full, bow-like pinkness.

Locksley noticed immediately and patted the moustache – obviously fake – back down onto his upper lip, his blue eyes darting back and forth nervously.

Sabrina gasped. She knew those eyes, and she knew that mouth. "It's _her!_" she whispered to herself with delight. "It's Ladybug!"

She squirmed out of the bushes undetected and retreated over to the tent area. Thankfully, everyone was too obsessed with the tournament to notice the dishevelled maid sneaking away.

Sabrina clenching her fists to her chest, giggling between her teeth wickedly. "Wait until I tell Her Majesty," she jeered. "She'll give me a promotion for sure!"

"I wouldn't bet on it," came a voice from behind her.

Sabrina stiffened.

But before she could turn around to confront who was talking to her, a hand clapped over her mouth and someone lifted her off her feet.

Sabrina thrashed and screamed and kicked, but then another pair of hands secured her feet.

Then, darkness closed around her, and Sabrina suddenly realized that she was being stuffed into an empty ale barrel.

The next thing the handmaiden knew, she was staring up at her assailant – or rather, _two_ assailants – as she lay crumpled up inside the barrel: a half-bald old man and a tomato-haired jester.

"Hey!" she shouted. She tried shift around and untangle her limbs. But as dainty as she was, this was a very small space. And it reeked of fermented ale.

"Terribly sorry about this, Miss," the old geezer said with pity.

"But it's for your own good," his younger companion said with a smirk.

Sabrina glared at them. "Don't you da–!"

Too late. The barrel lid came down and twisted into place.

There were a couple of holes in the barrel, so Sabrina was in no danger of suffocating. But it was still smelly! And she couldn't get out!

Sabrina shook her makeshift prison, making it rattle in its spot. "Let me out this instant!" she hollered angrily. "I don't like ale!"

But she knew from the silence that her two captors were long gone. So Sabrina held her breath and kept on trying to shake free.

* * *

The people waited in silence as the Captain of the Guard did the final tally.

Then, he walked up and lifted his arms to the crowd. "Attention, everyone!" he called out. "We have our final two contestants!"

The remaining archers stood in a single line, frozen with anticipation.

"Our first finalist: the honourable Sheriff Roger of Nottingham!"

Roger leapt forward happily and took a deep, satisfied bow. But the people booed him yet again, their bitterness clear in their booming voices. The Sheriff frowned with annoyance.

"Our second finalist: the spindle-legged Squire Locksley of Devonshire!"

A roar of approval rocked the field, and Marinette couldn't help but blush as she waved to the people. _Her_ people, who would surely be leaping out of their seats if they knew who they were really cheering for.

She caught Adrien's eye and waved to him, and he waved back as a gesture of good luck, his emerald eyes gleaming with pride.

"There will now be a five-minute recess," the Captain announced. "Finalists, prepare yourselves! The Golden Arrow is within your range!"

The other archers – save for Roger – shook hands with Marinette before heading off to join their friends and families in the crowd. Then, the two finalists walked off to separate spots to refresh and check their bows for any flaws.

As Adrien walked away, he heard a sing-song voice trying to get his attention:

"Yoo-hoo! Oh, Adrikins!"

Adrien winced. _Oh, great_. But as the son of Lord Gabriel of Agreste, he must suffer the presence of his unbearable cousin.

He walked without haste to the royal box, where Princess Chloe was waving him over towards an empty seat on her right side. Thankfully, Nino was there in the second seat, and he produced Adrien a prominent thumbs-up.

The left side was currently occupied by a black-haired noblewoman with brownish skin and amber eyes. She seemed to be smiling at Adrien as though they were old friends, even though he was quite sure they had never met.

"Come, come, darling – take a rest," Chloe urged, batting her long eyelashes at Adrien. "You've had _such_ a gruelling trial, and you deserve a front-row seat befitting my cousin."

Adrien tried to smile, but found it excessively hard. He gently took her hand and bowed. "Thanks Chloe. I appreciate that." He quickly moved past his cousin and sat down beside Nino, doing his best to avoid Chloe's lingering gaze.

The dark-skinned attendant leaned closer. "Did you find her?" he mouthed into his liege's ear.

Adrien responded by looking over at "Squire Locksley", his eyebrows lifting.

Nino followed his best friend's gaze, and his mouth twisted up all goofy-like. "Man... she _is_ good!" he breathed.

Adrien couldn't agree more. Even in that ridiculous oyster of an outfit, Adrien could still see the beautiful pearl underneath. It made him think back to the night he first met his beloved; the night he had taught her how to shoot:

_You'll be the greatest archer in all of Nottingham. No, wait... all of _England!

_Thank you... but even _I_ could never be _that_ good._

_You might surprise yourself._

The lordling just never imagined that _she_ would end up surprising _him_.

A hand creeping along his shoulder jolted Adrien back to reality, and he flinched away from Chloe.

"What's this here?" The princess lowered her hand and tapped the red rose and its fanning petals on Adrien's chest. "Oh, isn't that just lovely! But, pray tell, what happened to the exquisite brooch I gave you?" Chloe pouted like a puppy dog. "You didn't want to wear it for me?"

Adrien felt something regurgitating up his throat, but he forced it back down.

If Chloe found out he was wearing another girl's favour, she might put two and two together and guess who it belonged to.

So Adrien quickly came up with a believable lie. "I was going to, but I didn't want to ruin or break it," he told Chloe. "So I..." He struggled not to groan. "I thought this rose would be a worthy substitute... in honour of your beauty."

Nino let out a gargling snort, but he wiped the amusement off his face before Chloe noticed.

The princess pursed her lips in an odd fashion. Then, she shrugged and waved an idle hand. "Well, I suppose it'll do. Red _is_ a royal colour, although _white_ is much more proper."

Adrien sighed softly with relief.

Chloe finally drew away and sat back in her throne. "What do you make of this squire fellow?" She gestured to the disguised Marinette, her eyebrows shifting. "You seem to be rooting for him over the Sheriff. Are the two of you close? Old friends, perhaps?"

This time, Adrien chose to let a smidgeon of truth appear on his face. "We met a couple times before," he replied, looking back at Marinette. "But I wouldn't exactly call us "friends". I just find his style and technique... _amusing_."

Chloe giggled, her tone surprisingly light and airy. "Coincidentally, cousin dearest, he amuses _me_ too." She cast a cool, oily smile at "Squire Locksley", and her voice deepened. "I do believe we already have our true champion."

Adrien glanced at her, his eyebrows drawn together. The way Chloe said that... It poked at the lordling's conscience something fierce. He'd have to keep a close eye on his "cousin dearest" once the tournament was over.

As though on cue, the Captain of the Guard suddenly declared, "For the final challenge, move the target back thirty paces!"

Back on the field, once he was sure no one was looking, Roger snapped to one of his personal guards, Nutsy: a puny, doe-eyed, big-nosed man wearing a purple hood over his mailed shirt.

"You heard him, Nutsy," the Sheriff growled, pointing at the target. "Get goin', you bird-brain!"

Nutsy gave his boss a fidgety salute before sprinting around the basket target and slipping inside. His eyes poked out through a slot at the top.

Roger grinned and covered his mouth as he whispered, "And remember what you're supposed to do."

"Yessir, Sheriff, sir!" Nutsy blubbered before remaining silent.

Roger retreated away just as the other groundskeepers came over, lifted the target, and carried it to the thirty-pace marker on the range.

Everyone retook their seats and spots along the field. Then, Marinette and Roger strode up to the starting line.

The drum roll began, and the Sheriff walked up first.

The townsfolk and nobles didn't utter a whisper.

Roger nocked his arrow and squeezed one eye shut. After a second, he fired.

The black-feathered arrow whizzed through the air like a breath of wind. And then...

... the target jumped up about a foot in the air, allowing the arrow to strike it right in the centre!

Shock and frustration flashed across Marinette's face, as well as those of Adrien and the rest of the crowd.

There was a series of booing. Many people were calling out foul play and sabotage. Near the front, Alix yelled "Cheater!", and Friar Fu was shaking his head with disapproval beside a flustered Nathaniel a'Dale.

Roger chuckled and slung his bow over his shoulder as he turned to Marinette with a smarmy grin. "Well, _that_ shot wins me the Golden Arrow, the princess's favour, and the whole caboodle."

Marinette just scratched her fake moustache and stepped around the Sheriff without a word or a glance at him. Once she was at the line, she readied her orange-fletched arrow and took aim.

Unbeknownst to her, a sly Roger inched the tip of his bow underneath the bottom of Marinette's... and gave it a little bump just as she was about to shoot.

Marinette reeled as her arrow soared high up into the air, way off target.

There was a collective, horrified gasp.

But Ladybug was not one to accept defeat. In a flash, she drew another arrow, aimed it up at the stray with a single narrowed eye, and fired.

The second arrow knocked against the fletching of the first, sending it twirling over until it was pointed back down at the target again.

No one moved or breathed or made a sound. Eyes bulged. Hands clasped together. Teeth chattered.

Adrien and Nino sat on the edge of their seats, the former's lip trembling in silent prayer. Alya (er, I mean... the "Duchess of Chutney") was slowly grinning from ear-to-ear. Princess Chloe's eyes flew open with surprise.

The arrow fell, gaining speed with the help of gravity.

There was a hard _THUNK!_ followed by a sharp _CRACK!_

Sheriff Roger let out a hitched gasp and collapsed to his knees.

Marinette smirked.

For her arrow had not only struck the black dot on the target – it had also cut through Roger's arrow like a hatchet to a log, splitting it right down the middle!

Only when the broken pieces fell to the ground did the celebratory cheer thunder across all of Stonefield: "YAAAAAAAAAYY!!!!"

Friar Fu lifted his hands to the heavens. "Huzzah!" he called.

Nathaniel gave a loud whistle.

Alix and her friends jumped into each other's arms and danced around in a giddy circle. Nadja grinned big while Manon let out a high-pitched, "Hooray!"

Alya clenched her fist in triumph, grinning wide, until she remembered where she was and quickly returned to her "Duchess of Chutney" facade, clapping gently.

But the best reaction of all was Adrien's. The moment Marinette's arrow struck true, the lordling launched out of his seat with his fists to the sky. "Yes! Yes!" he cried with a big smile. He then pulled an ecstatic Nino into a back-clapping hug.

Marinette sighed breathlessly, taking good care of her moustache as she wiped the sweat off her face. She had won many small contests in her youth, thanks to Adrien's tutelage, but _that_ shot was undoubtably her finest moment.

_I did it, Papa_, Marinette said to the watchful clouds above. _I actually did it!_

She then caught Adrien's joyous smile bearing on her, and she beamed at him.

If the disguised outlaw had been paying more attention, she would have noticed that Princess Chloe wasn't cheering, or clapping.

The royal blonde didn't so much as twitch out of her seat. She just watched an oblivious Marinette with a malicious grin.

Then, the princess turned her head towards her Captain of the Guard, and gave a single hard nod.

The crocodile-man bowed his own head with a crooked smirk, and then whispered into the ear of a nearby soldier.

The game was over, but the celebration was only just beginning.


	10. More Than Life

CHAPTER TEN:

MORE THAN LIFE

The victory fanfare was a marching band of drums, flutes, and trumpets.

The musicians led the small promenade towards the royal box, followed by the tournament victor and two rows of royal guards, all marching in synchronization.

Marinette's heart skipped a beat as her eyes once again found Adrien, and the red rose he bore proudly on his chest. She formed the plan in her head: get the Golden Arrow, slip away during the celebration, find Adrien, and declare her love for him. With any luck, they would both be running off together into Sherwood Forest before the sun was down.

As the evening sun cast its coppery-golden light upon Stonefield, the people of Nottingham – rich and poor alike – awaited the crowning of their new archery champion.

Marinette approached the steps of the royal box, glancing quickly at Alya before affixing a calm gaze on Princess Chloe.

Her Highness stood from her throne and raised her royal voice. "Squire Locksley of Devonshire, I commend thee! For your exceptional performance here today, you shall get _exactly_ what is coming to you." She chuckled a bit before adding, "Our humble congratulations!"

Marinette made her face all giddy-like and snatched up Chloe's hand to shake it. "Aww, thank you, Your Magnificence!" she said in her male accent. "Meetin' ya face ta face with yer Royal Mightiness is a real treat...!"

The princess's face contorted, and she snatched her hand away briskly. "Release the royal fingers!" she hissed like a menacing lioness.

In the corner of both her eyes, Marinette caught Adrien and Alya smirking.

Chloe regained her composure and snapped her fingers.

Two guards sprang forward. One carried the Golden Arrow on its pillow. The other beheld a broad sword with a crown pommel and a golden hilt – a royal sword for a princess to knight her champion.

Chloe lifted the sword up with both hands and pointed it to the sky. A gleam of sunlight glinted along the blade like fire, making Marinette slightly nervous.

"Kneel," the princess said coolly.

Ladybug would never kneel or grovel at the feet of an unworthy ruler like Princess Chloe of England. But here, she was not Ladybug – she was Squire Locksley of Devonshire. And a squire would never shy away from a beautiful princess.

So Marinette got down on one knee and bowed her head low.

She heard footsteps on wood, and then felt metal tapping her on one shoulder.

"On behalf of the royal family," Princess Chloe announced, "and all the people gathered here on this glorious occasion, I hereby name you the winner."

There was a long pause, and suddenly, Marinette felt a bloodless shiver in her gut. Her senses went on high alert, and she couldn't help but notice a series of shadows along the ground behind her... or the faint tremble of concerned whispers from the crowd.

_Get out of there_, her outlaw instincts warned her. _Move now!_

But it was too late.

Just as Marinette jerked away, something cold slipped under her tunic and down her spine, and there was a loud tear along her back.

Marinette gasped and leapt to her feet just as her grubby shirt fell to the ground – split in two by Chloe's sword – revealing the blunette in her slim leathers and white uniform. In addition, her hat and wig slipped off in her haste to squirm away. Lastly, her moustache betrayed her and fell clean off her sweaty face.

Midnight-blue ponytails sprang out, and the audience let out a profound gasp.

Adrien started up from his seat, his green eyes going pupil-less and his face turning pale with terror.

Nino inhaled sharply, a hand flying to his mouth as he surveyed the sneering guards.

Alya, bless her heart, had the wisdom to squint with a queer frown at Marinette like a flabbergasted noblewoman.

Princess Chloe, on the other hand, was grinning maniacally at her newfound triumph. "Oh, my!" she cackled. "Perhaps I should have dubbed you as the _loser_, Squire Locksley. Or should I say... _Ladybug!_"

Four years of hatred finally poured out of Marinette's heart, and it shone on her face like a mask of white fury.

This was the princess who forced her people into poverty while she lay back in luxury; the tyrant who allowed innocents to suffer and die of starvation and disease, just like Marinette's father had.

Ladybug may not have her red hood now, but she wouldn't cower in the presence of this false queen. She came here for love. She was willing to fight for it; _die_ for it.

_I am not going to hide anymore._

Marinette ripped her eyepatch off, as well as her bulky gloves. Then, she straightened up to her fullest height to glare right into the princess's cold, frosted eyes.

All around her, there were plenty of exclamations to go around:

"Merciful heavens – that's Ladybug! The outlaw!"

"Look! It's Ladybug!"

"She was the squire all along!"

"What's Ladybug doing here?!"

"Oh, no! They've got her!"

Marinette quickly snapped around to take in her surroundings... only to find herself surrounded by five royal guards towering over her like nightmarish villains. Among them was Sheriff Roger, his face purple with rage at the revelation before him: he had been tricked and humiliated once again by his archenemy.

Ladybug had nowhere to run. So she drew her knife and crouched low.

But then she made the mistake of looking over at Adrien, and Chloe noticed.

"Wretched, promiscuous little beast," the princess snarled in a stormy tone. "You should have stayed in your forest hole." She jabbed a finger in Marinette's direction. "_Seize her!_"

"No!" Adrien cried, bounding over the railing in one swoop.

Marinette should have focused on the guards closing in on her. She should have put all her efforts into defending herself against her enemies.

But the moment she heard Adrien's voice, something broke inside her... and she lost all sense of thought save for one: to keep the guards away from Adrien.

Marinette sprang into action, putting herself between Adrien and the soldiers. She slashed at their swords with a furious cry, and a couple of the men staggered back.

But they were too strong and too many, and the outlaw only had one weapon. One hand slipped through her defence grabbed her shoulder, and then another snatched her wrist in a painful grip. Then Marinette was heaved into the air while an arm hooked around her neck.

_Adrien! Where is he?!_

Marinette tried to squirm free, but all she could see was the pastel-blue sky and the flurry of blue-and-yellow uniforms.

Her feet touched earth again, but then her arms were wrenched behind her and tied together with a rope that burned her skin as it tightened. Then, someone shoved her, and she landed on her stomach with a coughing moan. A bit of dirt got in her mouth.

She heard a cacophony of shouts and cries – fear, outrage, and a hint of cruel laughter. Marinette couldn't make out Adrien's voice from any of it. Had he been restrained too? _Dear God, please, let him be spared!_ the blunette pleaded in her mind.

Finally, she was lifted back onto her feet, but now her hands were bound and two guards had both her arms in their suffocating grasp. Marinette spat out dirt and looked over to see Sheriff Roger grinning mad beside her.

She looked around quickly, and her heart sank when she saw Adrien being shepherded against the railing of the royal box by two soldiers with spears. The lordling tried to shove his way through, but even _he_ wasn't strong enough to fight two burly men. All Adrien could do was reach helplessly between the crossed spears towards Marinette.

So close, yet so far away... Marinette swallowed a sob back down her throat.

Meanwhile, the entire crowd had lost its voice. All of Nottingham stared at the scene of their captured hero with ash-ridden faces and gaping, wordless mouths.

Princess Chloe addressed her prisoner with a sadistic, triumphant sneer. "Ladybug of the Red Hood, formerly known as Marinette the baker's daughter," she declared, "you have been found guilty of high treason to the crown! Henceforth, I hereby sentence you to sudden, instant, and even _immediate_... death!"

More gasps, along with a few bouts of weeping.

"Chloe, _please!_"

Marinette stiffened at that voice.

_His_ voice – so broken and young and terrified, yet bold and absolute.

Marinette looked at Adrien, who was now gazing up at his cruel cousin with green eyes that could cut through flesh and stone.

"Don't do this," Adrien pleaded again, his breathing ragged as he spoke. "Spare her life! If you ever cared for me at all, you will show her mercy!"

The onlookers whispered to each other with intrigue and confusion.

Chloe glanced at her cousin with a raised eyebrow, but her dark grin never left her. "Mercy?" she repeated with a snort. "To a criminal who humiliated and stole from England's future queen? My dear, sweet, emotional Adrikins... Why should I show this _insect_ any mercy?"

Adrien looked over at Marinette, his face softening with a kind of warmth that burned even in the darkest, coldest winter. Then, he answered loud and clear, "Because I love her."

This time, no one could hold back their shock.

Not Nino, whose face went from surprise to delight at his best friend's declaration.

Not Chloe, whose smile flattened in a second and whose eyes widened with jealous rage.

Not Marinette, whose legs suddenly turned to water yet she somehow managed to stay standing.

_Did he... Did he just say that? In front of Chloe? In front of all of Nottingham?_

Marinette wondered if this was all a dream. A second later, she knew in her heart that she was wide awake, and that this place and this moment was real. The honest green eyes of her beloved were proof of that.

_He loves me._

Even though she had just been given a death sentence, Marinette had never been so happy in all her life.

Princess Chloe looked back and forth between her cousin and her prisoner, her cheeks a rather heavy shade of red. "_Love her?!_" she blurted out, making even her own guards wince.

Adrien nodded staunchly. "Yes," he stated. "I've loved her since we were children. I've continued to love her even when I was in London. And I love her still." He glared at Chloe now. "And I would rather die than be parted from her again."

Several people inhaled deeply, most notably the women. Even Alix and her mother Nadja were staring at the lordling with great awe.

Marinette squirmed. "Adrien, no..." she said.

"Quiet, you," Sheriff Roger growled.

Chloe cast the blunette a callous frown before turning back to her cousin. "Is that so?" she asked with a voice thicker than molasses. "Well, so you say... but does this prisoner return your feelings?" She beckoned to Marinette. "Does _she_ think your... _love_ is worth dying for?"

Adrien met Marinette's eyes again. He said nothing, because he was waiting for _her_ to speak; to finally will the truth into being.

_Well, better late than never_, Marinette thought with an awkward smile. If her true love could be brave enough to present his heart out to the public, so could she.

"Adrien..." Marinette began, making sure he heard each syllable. "I love you more than anything. More than gold, more than freedom... more than life itself." She smiled brave and true for him. "And I have no regrets, even now."

Adrien let out a shuddering breath that almost sounded like the beginnings of a joyous laugh. He smiled at Marinette, his eyes glistening.

A great sigh of "Awww..." resounded from the audience.

Then... Chloe laughed.

It was a low, cold, obnoxious cackle, like that of an old hag from a children's book. The princess's lips were pulled back from her teeth, her chin was raised to the sky, and her shoulders shook with each crack of her voice.

Everyone in Stonefield stared at their young ruler with looks of apprehension... except Nino, who narrowed his brown eyes at Chloe with contempt.

Then, the princess finally stopped and shook her head with a nasal sigh. "How romantic," she mused. "The outlaw and the queen's cousin – a real fairytale come to life."

Marinette blinked at her incredulously. "Queen?" she said.

Chloe ignored her and addressed Adrien with a feigned pout. "Unfortunately, my silly, misguided cousin, your pleas have not fallen upon _this_ heart of stone." She pointed at her chest, and then up at her crown as she raised her royal voice once more. "Justice shall be done here today! The traitor to the crown must die!"

Incredulity shifted into anger, and Marinette scowled and thrashed in her bonds. "Justice?" she shouted with all her valour. "You want justice done, Chloe? Look to your subjects! How many more women and children must starve before your greed is finally sated?"

Chloe's face fell flat with appall. Apparently, she wasn't expecting a verbal comeback.

But Marinette wasn't finished. "How many more winters do you think Nottingham will last without the money to pay for kindling and medicine?" The blunette wrestled against the soldiers' grip. "What would your brother, King Felix, say if he could see you now – ruling over a decaying city with such ignorance and neglect?"

Loud murmurs echoed across the field, and Marinette looked to see the townsfolk glaring with newfound resolution at their princess. The last four years of scrimping and living off scraps were finally showing on their weary faces.

All the while, Adrien watched Marinette with a surprised expression that slowly molded into mischievous pride.

Marinette gave Chloe a bone-chilling look, her eyes as hard and sharp as diamonds. "_You_ are the traitor to the crown, Chloe! That crown belongs to King Felix!"

Chloe gasped with jaw-dropping fury.

Then, Marinette lifted her head to the heavens and proclaimed with all her heart, "_Long live King Felix!_"

Immediately after, the townsfolk joined their heroine in a unified, angry chorus: "Long live King Felix! Long live King Felix!"

Princess Chloe's mouth opened and closed like a fish gasping for water. "_Silence!_" she yelled. "Stop this at once!"

But the chorus only rose louder, joined by all the devoted people of Nottingham: Alix, Nadja, Manon, Friar Fu, Nathaniel a'Dale, Otis the Blacksmith, Juleka, Rose, Kim, Max...

Then Nino. Then Adrien.

"LONG LIVE KING FELIX! LONG LIVE KING FELIX!"

Many of the nobility hastened out of their seats and backed away, quivering from the peasant army before them.

Only when Princess Chloe crawled onto her throne, stood up on her seat, and screamed, "_ENOUGH!!!_" did the chorus finally die down.

Marinette grinned. She may die today, but tomorrow, Chloe's reign would be short-lived. The people would rise against her, and King Felix would one day return and set things right again.

_Keep your chin up. Someday, there _will_ be happiness again in Nottingham._

Marinette just wished she could be alive to see it.

Chloe seethed through clenched teeth at her sneering prisoner. "I am queen of this land! Queen, I tell you!" she shouted, her voice raspy and high-pitched. "OFF WITH HER HEAD!"

Somewhere offside, a drum started to play: _Tap, tap, drum roll... Tap, tap, drum roll..._

A morbid silence fell over the people, who covered their mouths as a massive, masked brute strode out towards Chloe's prisoner. He was carrying a large axe.

"NO!" Adrien broke the spell of silence and struggled harder against his restrainers. "Chloe, don't do this! I beg you! Take _me_ instead!"

The princess once again ignored her cousin's pleas, and she sank back onto her throne with a razor-sharp sneer.

_Tap, tap, drum roll... Tap, tap, drum roll..._

Marinette heard a few more cries of despair from the crowd, and she looked over at them to see a few familiar faces staring at her.

Nadja held a crying Manon close. "Look away, sweetie... Just look away..." she cooed as tears cascaded down her cheeks.

Alix was shaking her head in disbelief and trying to rush to Ladybug's rescue. But Kim held her back, begging her not to not be stupid and get herself killed. Around them, Rose cried into Juleka's arms, and Max turned away with a pained expression.

_Tap, tap, drum roll... Tap, tap, drum roll..._

Friar Fu and Nathaniel exchanged a horrified glance, but neither of them could figure out what to do.

_Tap, tap, drum roll... Tap, tap, drum roll..._

The executioner arrived, his shadow falling over Marinette.

The drum roll went on longer, and longer...

Sheriff Roger forced Marinette to her knees, and he held her by the shoulders as she leaned forward.

Marinette steadied her breaths. _Don't be afraid_, she thought. She then looked up at Adrien one last time.

Two tears fell from both his eyes, but the lordling never once ceased his struggling. His determination to save her was as clear as the raindrops on the red rose he gave her four years ago when they parted.

_We _will_ see each other again_, he had promised.

And they did. That was enough for her.

Marinette bore him a courageous smile and said, "I love you, Kitty."

Adrien hitched a small gasp. "Milady..."

The young outlaw lowered her head, closed her eyes, and imagined soft grass under a starry sky...

"STOP!"

The drumming skittered to a halt, and Marinette's eyes flew open with shock.

_What_ did Chloe just say?!

* * *

Oh, yes... I bet you're all wondering right now: Where was Alya through all this?

Was she just sitting in the royal box doing nothing while her best friend was about to be executed? Absolutely not.

While everyone was focused on Princess Chloe and Marinette, Alya used this opportunity to slip behind the blue overhanging curtains behind the throne, tear off her black wig, and pull out the knife she concealed underneath her magenta dress.

Then, as the drum rolled and the crowd hushed with dread, Alya reached between the curtains and yanked on the back of Chloe's collar. Then, she pressed the tip of her knife to the princess's back and...

Well, you get the idea. Great! Now you're all caught up.

"Executioner, stop!" Chloe rasped, her blue eyes wide with terror. "Stop! Hold your axe! Back away!"

The tall brute blinked several times, but nonetheless did as he was ordered and stepped away from the kneeling Marinette.

Hundreds of astounded eyes fell upon Chloe at that moment: Ladybug, Sir Adrien, the Sheriff, the guards, and the peasants. Everyone was wondering wordlessly why their ruler had suddenly changed her mind.

The answer was Alya, who remained concealed behind the curtains as she growled into Chloe's ear, "Okay, Blondie... Now tell them to untie my friend, or I'll..." She finished the sentence with a tiny poke of the knife in her victim's back.

Chloe squeaked like a mouse in a trap. Then, she cleared her throat and yelled hastily, "Sheriff! Release my friend! I-I-I mean release the _prisoner!_"

The townsfolk gasped with delight. The nobles exchanged outrageous glances.

Sheriff Roger looked like he was having trouble trying to speak, his mouth quivering like a baby being denied a special toy. In this case, it was a soldier being denied the victory of his enemy's demise.

"U-U-Un... _Untie_ the prisoner?!" Roger blubbered.

Nino glared at him over the heads of Adrien and the royal guards. "You heard what she said, Bushel Britches!" he spat.

A few people in the crowd chuckled.

Through the tiny split in the curtains, Alya saw Marinette smiling, as though she knew the secret to Chloe's benevolent act of mercy. Not far from her, Adrien was glancing between his cousin and his beloved in sheer disbelief.

Roger was still white in the face and sputtering like an idiot, "B-B-But... Your Highness! She's...!"

"Nah-uh! Don't question me, Sheriff!" Chloe hollered, scowling through her terror. "I make the rules around here, and since I am the head woman –!"

Alya tugged a bit at the princess's collar with impatience.

Chloe let out a small "Gak!" and then hissed under her breath. "Ow! Not so hard, you mean _thing!_"

Alya grinned, and nudged her knife a little closer.

The princess lost control at that moment. "Let her go already!" she practically sang. "For heaven sakes – let them _both_ go!"

* * *

Adrien gasped, and a broad smile lit his face as the two men holding him finally pulled away and lifted their spears.

At the same time, Marinette was helped back to her feet by her perplexed captors, who then make quick word of her bound hands and walked away. Marinette smiled big as she rubbed her sore wrists.

Then, Alix broke the silence with a fist to the air and a triumphant cheer. "_Yeeeee-hee!_ Love conquers all!"

The people of Nottingham erupted into cheers of profound relief and joy, waving their flags for their heroine. Children danced, women cried, and men raised their pitchforks and canes in triumph. Among them, Friar Fu thanked the heavens for this wonderful miracle.

Adrien barely heard their applause over the pulse of his own thunderous heartbeat. And the moment Marinette looked up at him and beamed, he stopped caring entirely.

He rushed forward and took her in his arms, pulling her so close against him like he was afraid she would be snatched away by the slightest breeze. Her arms wrapped around his neck, and he felt her kiss his cheek with rose-petal softness.

_She's all right_, Adrien assured himself. _She's safe. And we love each other._

To hell with noble duty. To hell with restrictions of marriage. To hell with Chloe and Adrien's father and anyone else who dared to stand between him and his lady.

Adrien was back where he belonged – in the arms of his childhood sweetheart.

He must have been crying, or breathing in a way that sounded as such, because then Marinette was telling him, "It's all right. It's over. I'm here, Adrien. I'm _here_."

Adrien smiled and nestled his cheek in her midnight-blue hair. "And I'm never leaving you again, Milady," he vowed with all his heart.

They both continued to stand there in silence, savouring every second and heartbeat of this moment.

* * *

Sadly, the lovers' reunion was short-lived.

Because Sheriff Roger knew that something funny was going on here. Princess Chloe wouldn't just order Ladybug to be executed and then have a sudden change of heart. The princess _had_ no heart!

So while everyone else was cheering for the lordling and his lady rogue, the Sheriff slipped around the royal box.

Lo and behold, he found a young, auburn-haired woman in a fancy dress pressed against the curtains.

Wait a minute... That was the princess's guest! The Duchess of Chutman or something-or-other.

Wait a minute... Roger _knew_ her!

The auburn hair, the bronze skin, the foxy sneer... It was Rena Rouge, Ladybug's partner!

She was holding a knife with one hand, and grasping onto the back of Princess Chloe's dress with the other.

"Now, _PC_," Rena Rouge purred, "kindly tell Sir Adrien to kiss Ladybug, or I've just found myself a new pincushion."

Sheriff Roger snarled and drew his sword. "Why, _you_...!" he shouted.

The outlaw gasped and snapped around just as the Sheriff swung his weapon at her.

But she was quicker. Letting go of Princess Chloe, Rena Rouge sank low and ducked under the blade.

Then, before Roger could strike again, Rena rose back up swiftly and punched him in the chin, sending the fat Sheriff sprawling onto the ground.

Clutching his sore jaw, Roger scrambled up into a sitting position and yelled in a bellowing baritone, "_Run, princess!_"

"Aw, great," Alya groaned, her shoulders slumping as she realized she just lost her hostage.

* * *

Princess Chloe gasped and reached for her neck, realizing that she was free of the conniving imposter.

But by then, everyone had heard the Sheriff's warning, and a hushed tremour filled the air.

Chloe stood from her throne and looked at Adrien and Ladybug, who were now starting to realize what was going on.

Her "darling" cousin immediately stepped in front of his blue-haired beloved, who saw the rising flames dancing in Chloe's eyes and grasped Adrien's shoulder as though to protect him.

Well... nobody was going to protect _her_. Not Adrikins! Not Rena Rouge! _Nobody!_

"_Kill her!_" Princess Chloe raged to her bug-eyed guards. "Don't stand there, you incompetent ingrates! KILL HER!"


	11. The Battle of Stonefield

CHAPTER ELEVEN:

THE BATTLE OF STONEFIELD

"Don't stand there, you incompetent ingrates! KILL HER!" Princess Chloe shrieked.

Like the string of a bow snapping back from a draw, Marinette spun into a defensive crouch to face the royal guards.

At the same time, Adrien swerved around to defend his lady, drawing both of his daggers just as the soldiers lifted their own blades and charged.

Three of the men reached Adrien first, and the lordling held them back with a flurry of spinning wrists and swift jabs.

"Mari!"

Marinette looked to see Alya rushing around the corner of the royal box.

The fiery outlaw held up a sword in her hand – the Sheriff of Nottingham's sword – and tossed it over to her friend.

Marinette caught it by the hilt with ease. She lifted it and whacked one soldier away before parrying with another. Then, she spun the man's sword out of the way and sent him back with a hard kick to his gut.

Suddenly, the blue-haired archer heard Nino cry, "Look out!"

Marinette spun around just as Princess Chloe brought the royal tourney sword down towards her with both hands, her evil grin almost blazing in the reddish light of the falling sun.

But Ladybug wasn't just good with a bow. Being acquainted with a lord's son for eight years had earned her some knowledge and skill in swordsmanship as well.

So when Marinette's and Chloe's blade's collided, the duel was short and sweet. The blunette whacked the tourney sword away with one strike.

Chloe's triumphant sneer shattered into a gape of helpless terror, and the princess reeled back like a cat would before a vicious dog. "Don't hurt me!" she begged. "No, no, don't hurt me! Oh, HELP!"

And with that, Chloe scurried through the blue curtains of the royal box, tripping over her own dress in the process.

Marinette rolled her eyes with a smirk and returned to the second wave of troops barrelling towards her.

* * *

As much as she feared getting her dress dirty, Princess Chloe feared for her own life even more.

So when she tumbled out of the royal box, she crawled hastily along the ground before rising back up and breaking into a run, hiking her skirts up as she did so.

The princess noticed several of the nobility also fleeing the scene of the fighting. Most of them were trying to slip away discreetly, whilst others trampled over each other screaming bloody murder. Chloe let them be.

Finally, she spotted a large keg of ale. It wasn't exactly a perfect place to hide, but it would have to do.

Chloe curled up behind the barrel, and she carefully peered over to see how the battle was going.

Big surprise: it was going badly for the soldiers.

Chloe diverted her furious gaze towards Ladybug.

The slippery pastry-girl looked so smug and proud of herself dancing around with the guards like a court fool. Even when facing death, Ladybug fought with a grin on her lips and defiance in her eyes.

All the while, the people of Nottingham _cheered_ for the blue-haired brigand. _Chloe's_ people, cheering for a thief who took away _everything_ from her – her gold, her handsome lordling, _and_ her glory!

The princess threw her arms into the air in frustration. "_Kill her!_" she yelled before taking shelter behind the barrel.

* * *

With the princess out of the way, Nino took this opportunity to leap out of the royal box and join the fight.

The only problem was... he was weaponless.

Thankfully, something glimmered in the grass in front of him, striking the dark attendant's brown eyes like the glare of the sun: the Golden Arrow!

Nino grinned and scooped it up just as he heard a sharp voice:

"Get your paws off me, you scoundrel!"

Nino looked to see Rena Rouge, Ladybug's partner, having an arm-wrestle match with a beefy-looking soldier.

Even in that ridiculous magenta dress – which was now torn slightly on the bottom and missing its collar – the girl fought and clawed at her smug handler like a wild cat. For a moment, those amber eyes struck Nino like the arrow in his hand, and her contorted expression was enough to send a tendril of jittery warmth through the young man's blood.

That tendril quickly turned into a blaze, and Nino gritted his teeth as he came upon the big guard from behind and got him in full headlock.

"I'll teach you to man-handle a lady!" Nino spat in his opponent's ear while the latter tried to throw him off.

Nino simply dug his feet into the ground, pivoted, and hurled the soldier over his back and onto the ground, knocking the man unconscious.

But before the attendant could so much as straighten up, he felt something pointy nudge into the skin between his shoulder blades. Nino stiffened.

"Don't move, _traitor_," a gruff voice snarled like an angry wolf.

Nino cursed silently and raised his hands.

Then... a piercing howl made him jump, and the sword at his back vanished.

Curious, Nino spun around and saw a bewildering sight.

The soldier who threatened him had dropped his weapon and was now fleeing down the field... with his hands covering his buttocks.

A twinkling giggle made Nino turn again, and he was frozen in place once more by the fiery eyes of Rena Rouge.

"Who're you calling a lady, Turtle Boy?" she asked with a smirk, twirling the Golden Arrow in her hand.

Wait... the Golden Arrow?

"Hey... Wha... How did you..?" Nino stuttered, wondering if he had dropped the arrow during his scuffle with the first guard.

Rena winked at him – a challenge. "Thief, remember? Now stop gaping like a fish and pick up that sword. Our friends need help."

And with that, the redheaded outlaw swept past the astounded manservant and charged once more into the fray of clashes and clangs.

Nino watched her go for a moment, blinking. "Turtle Boy?" he repeated. His lip curled up softly. "Oh, I can do better than that."

He scooped up the runaway soldier's blade and spotted Sheriff Roger chasing after Ladybug. So Nino chased after Roger.

* * *

Marinette knew she was in trouble the moment Sheriff Roger's infuriated eyes fell upon her like a cougar on the hunt.

And she still had his sword.

Purple-faced, Roger unkindly snatched a sword and shield away from a nearby guard and ran at the blunette with a hardened yell.

Marinette braced herself and blocked his attack. But he was heavier, and his blow caused her knees to give way and make her stumble.

The Sheriff used that advantage to shield-bash the outlaw, slamming her right in the chest.

Marinette fell back a few feet and collided with a concession stand, losing her sword in the process. Marinette winced from the pain shooting up her back, and she shook her head from the disorientation of the bash.

But when she looked up, her blue eyes flew open.

Roger, grinning maniacally, drew his sword back and thrust it towards the outlaw's heart.

Marinette moved, and the blade just barely grazed her shoulder, leaving a small tear in the white fabric of her sleeve. It was lined with a thin trace of blood.

Trying not to shudder, Marinette scowled up at the Sheriff as he pulled his sword free to strike again.

"Now I've got –" Roger began.

_WHAM!_

A green-clad figure collided with the Sheriff and pinned him to the ground, wrestling his shield out of his hand.

It was Nino, Adrien's attendant.

The young man looked over his shoulder at Marinette. "Go! I've got this!" he said while Roger's limbs flailed out underneath him like a spider.

Marinette nodded and rose to her feet, looking around for the sword she lost.

Only then did she catch sight of Adrien on the field, and the blunette froze.

Her beloved was surrounded by four armed guards, and he had already lost one of his daggers. Despite the sweat gleaming on his brow, Adrien gave his opponents a hard, gnashed smile and kept fighting.

But Marinette knew his strength and stamina wouldn't last. She needed an escape plan.

But to do that, she needed to retrieve something from Nathaniel first.

It was time for Ladybug to show her true colours.

* * *

Adrien ducked and rolled out of the way of two swords, scooping up a fallen halberd as he came back up.

He blocked another blow, but the soldier's blade knocked the axe of the halberd right off, leaving Adrien's weapon as nothing but a metal staff.

The lordling blinked for a moment. Then, grinning mischievously, he spun his staff in broad circles and crouched before his bemused attackers.

"Shall we dance, gentlemen?" Adrien asked.

The guards struck, and the black-garbed rogue swerved and twisted around of the way like an acrobat.

Sadly, what Adrien had in agility, he lacked in strength. The soldiers were all muscle and armour, and they kept knocking the lordling to the ground more than once.

"Well..." Adrien huffed at one point as he scrambled back to his feet, "you guys are certainly more than I can shake a stick at."

One of the guards chuckled cruelly before addressing his companions. "Take him alive. The princess will want to interrogate him."

Adrien frowned playfully. "No wonder nobody likes you guys. You are _terrible_ at making friends."

The guards drew closer, until...

Something slammed into Adrien from the side and carried him up into the air.

The lordling let out a long cry of surprise as he went arching up towards the golden overhang of the royal box. When he landed, Adrien could almost see over the treetops of Sherwood Forest.

Heart hammering, Adrien pivoted to see his rescuer... and smiled at her.

Marinette smiled back, her face flush with adrenaline. She had a rope gripped firmly in one hand while she held onto Adrien with the other. On her back was her cherry-wood bow and quiver of red-fletched arrows... and underneath those, billowing in the breeze, was her trademark red cloak, spots and all.

"You sure know how to sweep a man off his feet, Milady," Adrien told his beloved with a sly smirk.

"_Somebody's_ got to be here to save your tail, Kitty," she teased him back.

Suddenly, an arrow came whistling past the blunette's ear.

Another one skidded past Adrien's feet, and the lordling glared down at the two royal archers taking aim at him and Marinette.

But that wasn't all: four more soldiers had gathered below the overhang and were waving their swords and pikes in an effort to reach the lordling and his lady.

_Why do the bad guys always have to ruin the moment?_ Adrien thought with a grumble, whacking away a blade with his staff.

Marinette wordlessly drew forth her bow and nocked an arrow. It went flying in a heartbeat and struck one archer in the shoulder.

The man screamed in pain, and his partner went pale in the face as he saw Ladybug reach for another arrow. Then, he dropped his bow and scurried away with his wounded friend.

But the guards below had better luck.

One sword missed Adrien, but slashed through the canopy curtain at his feet. Gravity and the combined weight of the two lovers did the rest.

Adrien gasped as he fell through the growing tear... and landed right on Chloe's cushioned throne with an "_Oof!_"

Then, he heard Marinette squeal before she fell right onto the lordling's lap.

She looked up at him abashedly, and that's when Adrien realized with a pounding flutter in his stomach that this was the first time in four years they've been this close.

Then, without even thinking about the nearby soldiers or the fight or the watchful crowd, Adrien looked into his lady's bluebell eyes and said, "Will you marry me?"

The way her eyes lit up at that moment, like two stars appearing through a sky of black clouds, and the way her mouth rose high on both ends... It was enough to assure Adrien of her answer.

But she still managed to say, "I thought you'd _never_ ask," before rolling off Adrien and kicking a soldier away as he came at her.

Once she was off, Adrien rose from the throne and used it as a support as he parried with another soldier and flung him away with a fierce shove.

"Although...!" Marinette called to Adrien as she pulled the third guard into a headlock with her bow. "... you could've chosen a more romantic setting!" She rammed the soldier into the railing, and he fell forward in a mess of broken wood.

Adrien looked over his shoulder with a feline grin as he duelled the last guard. "You don't think _this_ is romantic?" he asked before returning his attention to his opponent. "Ladybug and her Cat Noir, fighting side by side, defying death and danger... I can't think of anything better!"

Adrien met the soldier in the middle. Then, he bashed him in the nose with his forehead before knocking the man through the far-left railing.

Like the other one, it too broke off and fell with the guard in a crumpled heap.

At that moment, two more soldiers came around the corner and assessed the damage before drawing their swords.

"Adrien, over here!" Marinette cried.

The lordling saw her crouched behind the right side of the throne.

But the blunette wasn't hiding, as others might have assumed. Her hands were braced against the armrest, and her shoulders were squared.

Grinning, Adrien rushed over and kneeled beside his lady. Then, with both hands, he gripped the bottom of the throne.

A nod from Marinette, and they both heaved the heavy thing up, tipping it onto its side until the far left legs slipped down the small steps.

Adrien and Marinette let go just as the throne fell through the smashed railing... and landed on top of the two unwitting soldiers with a hard _CRASH!_

Despite the mess they both made, Adrien was beaming like an artist finishing his masterpiece.

And when Marinette turned to face him, and he saw her smiling at him like the giddy seven-year-old girl who had come crashing into his courtyard, Adrien lost all sense of time and space.

The light of the setting sun turned Marinette's porcelain face sunset-copper as she took Adrien's hand in his. "You know what? I can't think of anything better either," she stated with that warrior spirit he knew and loved. "Yes, I _will_ marry you, Sir Adrien. We may spend the rest of our lives defying death and danger, but my answer will always be yes."

Adrien's smile grew, and all the doubt he ever had faded like the last traces of winter melting before the spring sun.

Then, without a word, the lordling and his lady closed the gap between them – his hand on her waist, hers on his cheek, their lips meeting.

Little by little, the townsfolk noticed the heartwarming sight, and their hurrahs were like a symphony of victory on a battlefield. A fitting description, given the circumstances.

Adrien barely heard them. All his senses were honed only on the beautiful girl in his arms. The more he kissed her, the more his veins sparked like fireworks and filled his very core with light.

Marinette pulled him closer, her fingers soft but unyielding, breathless with each kiss.

Their hearts beat entwined, and though the moment lasted only a few seconds, it felt like an eternity for them.

Until the sounds of the battle roused the lovers and forced them to break off the kiss. Even so, their smiles held.

"Shall we, Milady?" Adrien asked, offering his hand with a gentlemanly bow.

Marinette clasped it firmly. "Let's go, _Cat Noir_," she said with a suave wink.

Together, they ran back out into the open to meet Chloe's troops head on.

* * *

Princess Chloe couldn't believe what she was seeing!

Four young shenanigans against a whole squadron of heavily-armed, well-trained soldiers?! And they were _winning?!_

It was embarrassing – utterly _embarrassing!_

And when the princess heard the sudden applause of the crowd and saw her cousin kissing that snivelling, thieving, polka-dotted ragamuffin... Chloe's anger rose so high, the veins in her scleras thickened and turned her eyes red.

Now Lady_brat_ and her traitorous cohorts were fleeing down the field, heading straight for the safety of the evergreen trees of Sherwood.

"Stop them!" Chloe shouted to her remaining, stumbling guards.

Just then, something sharp poked her from behind, and the princess yelped with fright.

A slick, feminine voice mocked, "How's _that_ for a stinger, Queen Bee?"

Chloe snapped around to meet her assailant.

Lady Alyanne... no, _Rena Rouge_ gave the princess a grin worthy of the fox she was. Then, with the Golden Arrow in hand, the outlaw zipped away and raced after her friends.

Chloe steamed. This humiliation was the last straw!

"Seize the fox girl!" The princess commanded, pointing at Rena Rouge.

* * *

The moment she saw the group of weaponless guards charging down the field towards her, Alya squared her shoulders, lifted her skirt, and rushed out to meet them with a piercing look that said "Challenge accepted".

The first guard missed her completely, because Alya made a sharp turn to the side.

The second tried to tackle her, but the red-haired thief fell back and slid right underneath the soldier before hopping back up and taking off along the grass.

The third guard was big and bulky, but all Alya had to do was grab his helmet and yank it down, and the guard fell flat on his stomach, allowing Alya to leap right over him.

All the while, the crowd egged her on. They whistled, guffawed, and cheered each time a soldier fell.

Among the spectators was old Otis the Blacksmith, who lifted his crutch above him like a trophy and cheered for his brave, elusive daughter.

Alya grinned as she tripped up the last guard and let out a triumphant whoop.

The shade of Sherwood Forest greeted her, and Alya gasped for breath as she came up to Marinette, Adrien, and Nino.

The three of them smiled before whipping around and slipping through the thick maze of trees and bushes.

But Alya remained.

With a confidant smile, Rena Rouge turned to the distant, watchful crowd, pounded a fist to the sunset sky, and bellowed, "Long live King Felix! _Yeeeheee!_"

The townsfolk repeated the gesture, their far-off roar washing over Alya like a gust of wind.

Suddenly, tiny dots suddenly appeared against the backdrop of orange and gold.

But before Alya could react, a hand gripped her shoulder and yanked her backwards.

_Thud-Tha-Tha-Tha-Thud-Thud!_ The arrows struck the grass and neighbouring trees where the feisty redhead had been standing. They stood out of the scenery like needles in a pincushion.

Alya's back collided with something... rather, some_one_. She blinked at the arrows for a minute before looking behind her at her rescuer.

Nino's lopsided grin was almost incredulous. "Are you ever _not_ trying to get trouble?" he asked.

Now don't get me wrong: Rena Rouge is no damsel in distress, waiting to be rescued by a charming hero.

That being said, Nino _had_ saved her life, even if she could've leapt out of the range of the arrows herself. And the dark-skinned attendant _did_ look rather charming, even with the dopey-eyed look.

Alya gave him a cool smile as she stood up and brushed herself off. "Don't look at _me_, Turtle Boy. _You_ signed up for this too."

To her surprise – and intrigue – Nino just smiled warmly and put a fist upon his chest like a true knight. "Carapace," he said, his brown eyes carrying traces of that compassionate valour Alya saw in them earlier. "I prefer Carapace. But you can call me Nino."

As he held out his hand like they were old friends, Alya found herself wishing she wasn't wearing this hideous dress anymore.

_Charming _and_ a gentleman_, the outlaw thought with a smile. _Maybe Mari's not the _only_ lucky one._

She took Nino's hand and shook it. "Alya," she told him.

A distant call from Marinette made them both turn. Then, with nothing but a solid glance at each other, Rena Rouge and Carapace ran into the woods after their friends.

* * *

No! No, no, no, NO!

How could this have happened? The plan had been _perfect!_ Ladybug had been at Chloe's mercy; an inch away from the justice she deserved! Where did it all go wrong?!

Now, Stonefield was nothing but a layout of groaning soldiers and smashed boxes. The golden overhang of the royal box lost its weakened supports and crashed to the ground in a twisted heap of metal and fabric. The nobility had all fled during the fighting, and the peasants were now filing away like ants, murmuring with delight and laughter.

And where was Princess Chloe of England? Why, still hiding behind her unscathed barrel of ale, of course. Only now, she rose up and glared down at her grass-stained, gold gown – evidence of her cowardice.

Chloe ran her fingers through her blonde hair and let out a frustrated, cat-like snarl. "Ridiculous! Utterly _ridiculous!_" She raised her voice and looked around. "_Sabrina!_ You're never around when I need you!"

A soft, singsong voice echoed close by – _very_ close. "Coming... coming..."

Chloe stiffened with confusion... and looked down at the barrel beside her.

The voice was coming from _inside_ the closed contraption, and there was a lot of giggling too.

When Chloe put her ear to the side of the barrel and listened, she knew there could be no doubt as to who was inside. With a sniff and a frown, the princess twisted the lid off and opened the barrel.

A head of cropped, sunset-coloured hair popped out, complete with glazed-over teal eyes and a giddy smile.

Having grown up among the royal court, Princess Chloe knew the side effects of drinking too much ale. Or in this case, breathing in its fermented fumes.

"Oh! _There_ you are, dear!" Sabrina gasped with delight before giggling like an excited little girl.

Chloe's gaze narrowed like obsidian glass at her hazy handmaiden. Only her mother, Queen Audrey, had ever called her "dear".

"Hey, hey... PC!" Sabrina continued, looking proud of herself. "You're not going to believe this... but the Squire Locksley fellow is actually _Ladybug!_"

Chloe dug her fingernails into her palms so much, they hurt. But she gave Sabrina a honeyed smile. "No... really?" she asked with a feigned tone of surprise.

The redheaded maidservant nodded confidently.

That's when Chloe lifted the lid of the barrel on top of Sabrina's head... and shoved her back down inside. Then, the princess pushed against the barrel until it fell onto its side. Finally, she gave it a push.

Sabrina's echoing shriek sounded as the barrel rolled softly along the grass.

"Get out of _that_, if you can!" Chloe shouted after her irritably.

With that settled, the princess stormed off to find Sheriff Roger. There were a few new warrants and reward posters she needed written and nailed up on Nottingham's walls by sunrise tomorrow.

Ladybug may have beaten her little tournament, but the _real_ game was _far_ from over!


	12. I’m With You Always

CHAPTER TWELVE:

I'M WITH YOU ALWAYS

Excerpt from Nottingham love ballad:

_Love..._

_It seems like only yesterday_

_You were just a child at play_

_Now you're all grown up inside of me_

_Oh, how fast those moments flee_

_Once we watched a lazy world go by_

_Now the days seem to fly_

_Life is brief, but when it's gone_

_Love goes on and on_

* * *

Night in Sherwood Forest was always magical.

The shadows danced freely in the cool breeze, brought to life by the glistening moon floating just above the leafy canopy. The leaves themselves were the darkest shade of green imaginable; almost completely black unless you looked close enough. The rest of the forest gleamed dark-blue, with streaks of moonlight swept along the trunks and roots like silver paint.

Amidst the darkness, the trees appeared monstrous and terrible, reaching their gnarled fingers to anyone who dared to set foot in their otherworldly domain. But such a vision was only the trick of the shadows. Sherwood was a haven for all of good will who entered... and a nightmare for any who meant to do harm or mischief.

Fireflies buzzed through the bushes, winking in and out like little flickering candlelights. An array of crickets sang together in perfect harmony, filling the air with a soft and pleasant music that lulled the woodland inhabitants into a peaceful sleep.

Well... except, of course, for a couple of young lovers who decided to go out for a stroll through the whispering wood.

Marinette couldn't remember the forest ever being more beautiful and magnificent than it was tonight. It was as though the moon and stars had brightened, and the blunette could see the finer details in the bark and leaves that her human eyes didn't see before.

Perhaps it was because of the young man who walked beside her, whose hand she now clasped lovingly in her own as she guided him through the midnight maze.

Perhaps it was because, for the first time in four years; for the first time since her father died shivering... Marinette was really and truly _happy_.

And every time she looked up into Adrien's face and smiled into his evergreen eyes, she kept reminding herself that this happiness was real. That this love was worth it all.

She and Adrien had found each other, despite all odds; despite all the dangers and threats that now lingered outside the sanctuary of the forest.

Now, Marinette was going to marry Adrien – her childhood friend, her partner, her "silly Kitty", her shining knight.

Once again, the red-hooded archer had to check to make sure she wasn't dreaming.

Four years ago, Marinette was so convinced that her life with Adrien was over. She had pushed him away and begged him to move on, knowing she could not be responsible for the trouble and misery Lord Gabriel would have surely brought upon them if he learned that his son was in love with a humdrum baker's daughter.

Life was not a fairytale. Marinette had accepted that when Adrien had given her that rain-kissed rose and bid her a heartfelt goodbye.

But here, now... walking beside the love of her life in this enchanted forest under a starlit sky...

Who knew a fairytale could become a reality?

As she had promised, Marinette told Adrien everything that happened in his absence: the good, the bad, and the hilarious. Her lordling listened intently, only speaking when she was finished with each tale. His brow scrunched with unease whenever Marinette brought up the life-threatening parts, but knowing that she always made it out of them in one piece put his troubles to rest.

All the while, they walked together through the woods until they reached the edge of a small lagoon under an open section of the forest canopy. As they sat down by the water, Marinette noticed how the sparkling moonlight upon the surface shone upon Adrien's face, revealing every crease of his smile and every streak of gold in his hair. It made her head swim and her chest rattle.

The light must have shone on her face as well, because Adrien couldn't take his eyes off her at that moment. He reached over and stroked her chin with gentle, calloused fingers.

"You're so beautiful," Adrien whispered, as though those words took his very breath away.

Blood creeped up into Marinette's face, but she didn't turn away to hide it. She would hide nothing from him.

"Did you know _that_ was the first thing I thought about you," Adrien went on, "the night you fell from that tree in my courtyard?" He smiled and lay down on his back, putting his hands behind his head with that youthful confidence of his. "That was the moment I fell in love with you."

Marinette tilted her head at him, her eyebrow lifting. "You fell in love with me because I fell from a tree?" she teased with feigned annoyance.

Adrien snorted with grin. "No, _silly_. Because you were so full of spirit and unafraid to go where your heart took you. And when I saw how upset you were when you got spots on your cloak, the one your mother made you, I realized that you cherish the simple things in life – the things that really matter. _That's_ why I fell in love with you."

Marinette could've sworn her heart went fluttering off somewhere, but she didn't bother to reel it back in.

She just hummed with a soft sigh and snuggled up beside him upon the grass, resting her head on his chest. His arm came around her and his fingers caressed her shoulder.

Marinette sighed again and traced the black stitches along Adrien's sleeve, lost in thought. "I think... I think I fell in love with you _before_ that, when you taught me how to hit that target at the festival. You were the only one besides Alya who didn't laugh when I made a mistake. I don't think I'd be who I am now if you hadn't encouraged me then to not give up."

Adrien hummed with intrigue. "Well, I _did_ say you would become the greatest archer in Nottingham, didn't I?" he asked. "Glad to know I helped that premonition come true."

Marinette rolled her eyes with a giggle. Then, after a pause, she said, "The night I first came to you, in the courtyard... Papa was so furious when he found out I snuck out my window. He made me scrub rusty pots for a week."

Adrien's chest shook as he chuckled. "He must not have punished you hard enough, because you kept coming to see me every time after that." He ran his fingers delicately along her arm and whispered, "Such a naughty lady."

Marinette blinked and let out something between an incredulous laugh and a cough. "Oh, _I'm_ naughty?" She nudged him in his side with her fist, making him wince. "How many times have _you_ defied your father's orders and broken curfew? Didn't Lord Gabriel ever lock you up in that tower of yours?"

Adrien shrugged, as though it were a casual thought. "He tried to. But he failed to remember that there was a moat outside my window. And I happen to be an exceptional swimmer."

Marinette smirked and rested against him again. "Such a clever Kitty," she mused.

Her young lordling chuckled again. Then, he took a deep, long breath that made his chest rise and fall slowly. "Father never really understood the real reason for my escapades." His voice softened with pity, and his next words carried a small bite to them. "No doubt my deranged cousin will send word to him of what happened today, if she hasn't already."

Marinette's insides turned to stone, and she swallowed hard. Of all the consequences she had considered when she agreed to marry Adrien, she forgot the one that frightened her more than Chloe's jealous wrath: her future father-in-law.

"Do you... Are you worried?" Marinette asked nervously.

"About my old man? Never," Adrien said, his bold vibrato returning. "In fact, I can't wait to confront him face-to-face and prove to him that I was never going to be what he tried to mold me into: a glorified, golden king."

Marinette bit her lip and forced herself to sit up and look into her beloved's eyes. "But you _do_ know what our engagement means now, don't you?" Her fingers latched onto his to steady herself. "You'll lose _everything_, Adrien. Your stature, your inheritance... your family..."

She stopped, her lip quivering. It was an effort not to speak the same words she had told him that day in the rain:

_You can't throw all that away for me. _Especially_ not for me._

Just then, Adrien rose up and shuffled closer to his lady, cupping her cheek with his free hand. Marinette shivered just to feel his touch.

Adrien's face was calm like the still waters on the lagoon, but his green eyes were like leaves tasting their first rays of sun after a withering storm. "You said you had no regrets about loving me. The feeling's mutual. The only thing I can't bear to lose is _you_, Marinette." He smiled warmly. "_You_ are everything to me. _You_ are my family. Tom was more of a father to me than Lord Gabriel of Agreste ever was."

Marinette was so surprised by his words that she let out a shaky breath, only to inhale sharply with a small smile. Her bluebell eyes brimmed with tears.

But then Adrien's expression faltered, and his eyes became glossy as he stared down at the dark grass. "I should have been there that day, when your father died..."

Marinette's hands immediately went to his face, and she rested her forehead against his. "You're here now, my love," she said. "Papa knows that." Her lip curled. "In fact, he's probably up there right now, hollering at you to stop moping about the past and start getting him some grandkids."

Adrien's cackle came so suddenly, Marinette almost fell backwards. Her jitters turned into giggles, and they both filled the cool night air with their warm, combined laughter.

When they stopped, Adrien shook his head and wrapped both his arms around Marinette, their foreheads still connected. His eyes bore deeply into hers, and their breath mingled in the narrow space between them.

"I've really missed you, Milady," Adrien spoke with a soft purr. "Not just your face, but your kindness and courage. The way you make me laugh. The way _you_ laugh. The way you look up at the sky and hope. The way you treat your people, as if they were your own blood. The way... The way you look at me and see more than just a prestigious lordling, but as a true friend. The way..." He stumbled in his speech, breathing unsteadily as though he had just been sprinting.

Marinette gave him an enticing grin. "Don't stop."

Adrien let out a breathless sigh, almost like a whimper. "I can't help it. I can't stop feeling this way for you. I can't bear the thought of not being with you; of not holding you. It chills me to the bone. Four years was too long a time." He lifted his head away. This time, when he looked at his lady, his eyes were sharp and unbending as steel. "Let's not wait anymore, Marinette. Let's get married now. _Tonight_." He clasped her hands with gentle fierceness. "Friar Fu can perform the ceremony, and Alya and Nino can be witnesses. That's all we need."

Marinette stared at him in surprise. Déjà vu tingled up along her spine, and her eyes darted to the vacant spot on his black tunic where the red rose had been only hours ago.

She had known this would come up during their talk, and she had to tell him what she needed to do now before he convinced her otherwise.

"Oh, Adrien, I want more than anything to be your wife," Marinette said earnestly. "I want to march straight up to Nottinghill Church right now, bang on Friar Fu's door, and _beg_ him to marry us."

Adrien caught the apprehension in her tone, and he lifted an eyebrow. "But...?"

She gave him a ghost of a smile... and then released his hands and stood up.

He stared after her, saying nothing. Waiting.

Marinette turned towards the dark expanse of water, trees, and starlight. Her red cloak fanned out at her feet, catching in the breeze. "Chloe will not take her defeat at Stonefield so easily," Marinette explained, her voice thick with seriousness. "Her revenge will be swift, and she will stop at nothing to have my head on a silver plater." She clenched her fists hard, her nails biting into her palms. "All of Nottingham will suffer as long as she rules. She will suck the life out of every man, woman, and child until either I surrender or she catches me again."

Anger thrummed through Marinette's veins; anger at the prospect of watching everything and everyone she loved crumble to ash before her eyes... and all because of a spoiled princess's vendetta towards her.

When Adrien still didn't say anything, Marinette willed the boiling rage to simmer, and she breathed in the cool air for comfort. "I promised my people there would be happiness again in Nottingham," she went on. "For _everyone_. Nadja. Alix. Manon. Otis. Friar Fu. Nathaniel. Alya. I would _never_ forgive myself if anything happened to them. Chloe will see them all guilty simply because they love me."

At last, Marinette pivoted around slowly to face Adrien. A part of her dreaded his reaction to her sudden flash of emotion in what was supposed to be their long-awaited moment of romantic bliss.

But the look on Adrien's face was bold. Understanding. Caring. Unnerved.

So Marinette kept speaking, her voice cracking a bit before she composed herself. "Adrien... I love you with every fibre of my being, and I want to marry you. But I _cannot_ step aside and enjoy one moment of happiness for myself while the people I love sink deeper into fear and despair. It wouldn't... It wouldn't be right. It's not the right time."

Adrien blinked, but he never diverted his gaze away from hers. His brow softened a little. Marinette had seen him do it many times, whenever he was sad. It made the tears she had been holding back finally come.

"I know what you're thinking," she croaked. "What if this is our only chance? What if something happens to one of us, or _both_ of us? I know it's a risk, and I'm trembling at the thought of it, but I've spent the last four years taking risks. You know what I've been through; the things I've seen... and it has to end." She wiped her eyes and gave Adrien a determined look, like a queen rallying for war. "I have to stop Chloe. I have to be the one to end all this suffering, because I'm the only one she fears and hates above all else. If I don't win, _nobody_ wins. Nobody will get their happy endings. Not even _us_."

Marinette breathed. Again. And again. And again. The tears had stopped, but her eyes still burned.

When it was clear to him that she was finished, Adrien got to his feet and stood tall and straight. The silhouettes of the trees snaked across his body, and one branch made a small black streak across his eyes. The forest had given Cat Noir a mask.

"This is what you want," her brave young knight said softly.

It took Marinette a moment to realize it wasn't a question, but a confirmation. "No," she groaned with a half-hearted laugh, "but it's what I have to do."

Adrien nodded, more to himself than to her.

Then, he walked over to Marinette, and the shadows slid away from him, revealing the handsome, chivalrous lordling underneath. His smile was small, but genuine.

And when he took Marinette's hand again, put his other hand to his heart, and sank down to one knee, the young archer felt her blood heat again. Not with hot, burning anger, but with radiant, soothing love.

"Then I'm with you, Milady," Sir Adrien of Agreste declared like a knight swearing a vow to his princess. "We'll wait for years if we have to, but we will get our happy ending, along with everyone else." He smiled up at her with that feline grin of his. "And when we get married, we'll throw a huge party and invite everyone in Nottingham, so they can share in our joy and never have to think about Chloe or taxes or the Sheriff ever again. Whatever you decide, Milady, I'm with you always."

_Always..._

Marinette's knees buckled, and before she could stop herself, she fell hard to her knees in front of Adrien.

He caught her a bit to steady her, and when their eyes met on the same level, time stood still once more.

Her blue eyes focused on him like a huntress aiming at her target.

His green eyes bore into her like a cat on the prowl. Her Cat Noir.

_I'm with you always._

Marinette repeated his words again and again in her head as she leaned forward and kissed her fiancé deeply.

He returned the kiss with a passion, and his hands found her waist and he scooped her up into his arms as he stood, twirling her around and around and around.

Now Marinette threw her arms around his neck, and her cloak wrapped around them both every time Adrien stopped.

She was flying and laughing and spinning through darkness and moonlight, and Adrien laughed with her.

It became a sweeter song than the crickets' nightly choir.

* * *

_Once we watched a lazy world go by_

_Now the days seem to fly_

_Life is brief, but when it's gone_

_Love goes on and on_


	13. The Phoney Queen of England

CHAPTER THIRTEEN:

THE PHONEY QUEEN OF ENGLAND

It was almost midnight when Adrien and Marinette arrived at the entrance to the outlaws' hideout.

The high waterfall glowed in the light of the moon; a glistening curtain of blue and white. Around it, the high ridge of wet, lichen-covered rocks shimmered darkly – too slippery for anyone to climb, and too broad to go around.

But there was a way _through_ it.

Marinette took Adrien's hand with an assuring nod. "Follow me," she said.

He followed right at her heels, stepping everywhere she did as she manoeuvred through the sharp rocks along the edge of the great pool.

The sound of rushing water drowned out all other noise, so Marinette relied on expressions and signals to communicate with Adrien. She led him through a stretched opening between the water and the rock wall, where the spraying mist moistened their faces.

Careful not to slip, Marinette tugged Adrien over to her until they were both concealed by the shroud of the waterfall. Then, she pointed to another opening in the wall behind her: a dark crevice that looked like a narrow mouth.

It was pitch-black inside, and wide enough for only one person to go in at a time. Moreover, the lovers had to bend forward just to fit in. But Marinette knew every inch of the walls and ceiling. She felt her way through the darkness with one hand and pulled Adrien behind her with the other.

The further they went, the more the sound of the booming waterfall receded. Eventually, Marinette could smell pine trees and drying laundry, and she smiled.

Finally, moonlight showed up ahead – the way out.

Marinette breathed in the fresh air as she stepped out onto soft grass. Then, she helped Adrien inch his way out of the hole.

The lordling shook his mop of dripping hair with a sideways grin. "Now I know why the Sheriff and his posse haven't tried looking here," he noted. "The soldiers hate getting wet more than anything."

Marinette smirked at that. One of Princess Chloe's biggest mistakes was choosing guards for their style rather than their stamina.

Adrien swept his eyes over the hideout. Next to the makeshift camp, there was a small clearing where several targets were set up. The bordering wall of trees and bushes provided perfect cover from the elements... _and_ the prying eyes of nosy sheriffs. Adrien whistled with a grin. "Spacious _and_ secretive," he said. "I could get used to being an outlaw."

Marinette shrugged with minimal enthusiasm. "Its kept me and Alya safe this long, but Chloe might get smart now and have her men do a more thorough search of Sherwood." The blunette looked at her hideout – her home away from home – and her shoulders sagged. "We'll have to move around and cover our tracks; stay on our toes until we can figure out a way to kick Chloe out of Nottingham for good."

Adrien slid his arm around her, and Marinette took comfort in his embrace. She turned to face him with hopeful eyes.

"We'll worry about that tomorrow, Milady," her Cat Noir said, still smiling. "Tonight, I just want _this_."

He pulled her into his arms and held her ever so closely. Protective, but not overwhelming. Strong, but delicate.

Marinette held him the same way, smiling from the warmth of his body. "I wish this night could never end," she whispered.

They stood there in silent harmony, finding peace and solace in each other's company.

Until...

"SURPRISE!"

Marinette yelped, and Adrien instinctively spun around to find the threat, keeping his arms around his lady.

To both of their heart-stopping bewilderment, standing in one of the bushes was Alix.

Her arms were spread open and she had a mischievous, beaming smile on her face. "Long live Ladybug!" the fourteen-year-old girl declared, just as loud as she had back at Stonefield.

The responding applause from the foliage made Marinette gasp with shock and delight.

There was grumpy old Otis the Blacksmith, leaning proudly on his crutch as Alya (now back in her orange cloak and brown leathers) helped him out.

Nino rose out from the bushes with Kim and Max, all three of them cackling over Adrien's astounded expression.

Friar Fu chuckled warmly as he came out from behind a rock with Nadja and Manon.

Then there was Nathaniel and his musician friends, all with their instruments in hand.

Rose and Juleka cheered from up in their perch in a birch tree.

More and more faces emerged out of the forest – familiar faces of friends and acquaintances, all of them cheering and laughing. Farmers and their families, woodcarvers, shepherds, the cobbler and his wife, the village children, the bookkeeper and his apprentice, Friar Fu's acolytes, and even the street urchins.

It seemed as though all of Nottingham had showed up!

Marinette was overwhelmed by the growing crowd as they stepped forward, and she placed a hand on her heart. Everyone she had helped; everyone she knew and loved like family... they were all here!

Beside her, Adrien was just as speechless, but his smile was broad and his eyes sparkled with amusement.

Once the clamour died down, Marinette looked to Alya with a suspicious but friendly gaze. "You always were a crafty one, _Rena_," she quipped.

The redhead lifted her hands in a shrug. "Hey, don't look at _me_, sister. We found them all gathered at the borders of the forest while you and Prince Charming were... _occupied_." She winked, and that only made Marinette's face redden even more.

Friar Fu chuckled as he strode towards Marinette and Adrien. "Given all that's happened today, we thought a little celebration wouldn't be unappreciated. Especially..." His mouth crinkled into a fatherly smile. "... now that the two of you are engaged."

"Congrats, by the way!" Nino chimed in, raising an invisible toast to Adrien. "Long live Ladybug and Cat Noir!"

Everyone clapped and whistled. A chorus of praise filled the air, including occasional shouts of "Bravo!" and "Congratulations!" and "Oo-de-lally!"

Adrien dipped his head to all of them in a nod of thanks. Marinette did the same with a bashful laugh.

Nino came over and clapped Adrien on the back in a brotherly manner, murmuring something like "It's about time".

Alix and Manon ran into Marinette's open arms, and the blunette lifted them both off their feet giggling.

"I told ya!" Little Manon boasted, showing off her little buck teeth. "I told Sir Adrien he was gonna marry Ladybug, and he is!"

Alix just rolled her eyes at her baby sister.

When it was Nadja's turn, she kissed Marinette on the cheek. "Your parents would be so proud, my dear," the magenta-haired widow said teary-eyed. "Adrien is a wonderful man, and I know you'll be very happy together."

Marinette tried to hide the hint of uneasiness in her eyes. "I doubt Chloe will think so," she admitted. She eyed her circle of friends with renewed vigour. "And I think it's high time we bring her down to our level."

"You got that right," Alya said, loud enough for everyone to hear. "Down with that scurvy Princess Chloe!"

"YEAH!" the townsfolk shouted in unison, fists raised.

Friar Fu lifted his hand to silence the riled crowd. "Patience, my brothers and sisters," he declared calmly. "Retribution will come, and Nottingham will be freed from this reign of oppression. But we must be vigilant." His tone became grim, like a fortune teller predicting bad weather. "Violence cannot be undone with more violence. Only through wisdom and cunning can we hope to defeat Chloe."

"He's right," Adrien stated, and all eyes fell upon him, including Marinette's. "My cousin has an entire army at her disposal. Stonefield was just a taste of it." His tone carried the strength and softness of a current in a river. "We can't risk an all-out war against the soldiers. It would only bring Nottingham to ruin."

Many among the crowd sagged with painful realization at the lordling's words. As much as they wanted Chloe to pay for driving them into poverty, Marinette could see in their eyes that they knew what their odds would be against heavily-armed and heavily-trained guards. Even if they found the courage to face Chloe's brutes, too many lives would be lost.

Marinette grasped Adrien's hand as she addressed the people. _Her_ people. "It will not come to war," she said boldly. "Chloe may have an army, but she's lost _one_ advantage today: her ability to rule through fear."

In the corner of the blunette's eye, Alya grinned.

"Then let's prove to Queen Bee that we're not afraid of her!" The redhead raised her fist to the heavens. "A pox on the Phoney Queen of England!"

More cheers and shouts, and both Marinette and Adrien found themselves joining them.

* * *

The merriment lasted long into the wee hours of the night, accompanied by music, dancing, games, and stories.

Nathaniel and his fellow musicians played a midsummer jig, and lots of people spun and stomped around each other in a broad circle, clapping to the beat. In the middle danced Marinette and Adrien, never once taking their eyes off each other while their friends looked on, touched by the endearment.

Alya was sitting on a rock before a group of adults and children, telling them stories about Ladybug and Rena Rouge's adventures. The little ones laughed at the story where the outlaws had snatched the clothes off the Duke of Hodcot, and also the time they had caught three royal guards in a net and sent them rolling down a hill.

Nino leaned against a nearby tree as Alya spoke, smiling at the way her face lit up at the exhilarating parts of her tales.

Beside him stood Otis, who occasionally break the silence with conversation. "She's always been a troublemaker, my Alya," the blacksmith told Nino with a smile at his daughter. "But she has her mother's kindness and spirit."

Adrien's dark-skinned attendant gave the old man a sideways grin. "And her father's stubbornness, from what she told me," he noted. "It's no wonder she has so much steel in her, since she has to put up with _you_."

Otis blinked at that... and then shook with laughter. "Aye, and don't you forget it, boy! Mark my words, _you'll_ be the one putting up with her soon enough!"

Nino just cleared his throat and shifted in his spot while the crippled blacksmith hobbled away with a mischievous chuckle.

Meanwhile, Alix and her gang were reenacting the "Battle of Stonefield", as they called it, for Manon and the other kids. Being blonde, Rose got to play the part of Princess Chloe. Her impersonation of Chloe running for her life from Ladybug (aka, Alix) sent everyone – including the actors – bending over from laughing too hard.

Friar Fu had brought a few kegs of his famous honeyed cider, which he brewed himself and spiced with honey from the bee farm in his church garden. Everyone drank and toasted and drank again, praising friends, family, and heroes.

Finally, Nathaniel rang a little bell that caught everyone's attention, and silence swept over the hideout like a heavy curtain.

The redheaded minstrel picked up his lute as he addressed the crowd. "And now, ladies and gentleman, folks and young-ins... I'd like to make a special commemoration for our _dear_ Princess Chloe." A sly smile stretched across his face. "A song of my own composition that, I believe, really brings out our ruler's most _renowned_ qualities."

Many people chuckled under their breaths at the prospect of this song, and they all waited in anticipation.

Nathaniel signalled to his friends: the drummer, the piper, the harper, the trumpeter, and the violinist. "One. Two. Three. Four!"

The minstrel immediately strummed on his lute while his friends provided the upbeat, fast-paced background.

As everyone clapped and started dancing, Nathaniel sang in deep tenor:

"_Oh, the world will sing of an English queen_

_A thousand years from now,_

_And not because she passed some laws,_

_Or had that shifty brow!_

_While bonny good King Felix rides_

_For the Holy Land beyond,_

_We'll all have to slave away_

_For that good-for-nothin' blonde!_

_Incredible as she is inept,_

_Whenever the history books are kept,_

_They'll call her the Phoney Queen of England!_"

Then the musicians sang in unison: "_A pox on the Phoney Queen of England!_"

All the while, Friar Fu's two acolytes – burly Ivan and sweet Mylene – put on a puppet-show for the children using Alya's laundry hanger and two blue blankets for curtains. The two large straw puppets were made to look like Princess Chloe and her handmaiden Sabrina.

The two acolytes put on a performance while Nathaniel kept singing:

"_She sits alone on a giant throne_

_Pretendin' she's the queen!_

_A little brat, so spoiled that_

_She always makes a scene!_

_And she throws an angry tantrum_

_If she cannot have her way!_

_She calls for Mum while suckin' her thumb_

_Cause she doesn't want to play!_"

At that moment, Puppet-Sabrina started whacking Puppet-Chloe. Then, Mylene appeared (wearing a paper crown over her eyes) and pretended to suck her thumb – just like Chloe.

After that, _no one_ could stop laughing. Not Alix, Manon, or their friends. Not Friar Fu. Not even Marinette, Adrien, Alya, and Nino.

Then Nathaniel finished with his next chorus:

"_Too late to be known as Chlo the First,_

_She's sure to be known as Chlo the Worst!_

_A pox on that Phoney Queen of England!_"

Alya pointed at the minstrel and chanted, "Lay that country on me, Dale!"

Nathaniel grinned and played a wild instrumental solo for the intermission. His fellow musicians followed in perfect harmony.

Little by little, the dancers broke off into pairs or groups. Marinette was stolen away by Alix and her friends, and they all took turns linking arms with their red-hooded saviour and spinning around. Adrien watched with a smile as he clapped to the music.

Just then, Nino appeared at Alya's side and immediately took her hand. "Come on, Rena!" he urged with a challenger's grin.

The fiery outlaw happily accepted, and the two of them linked hands and did a fast-stepping jig around each other. At one point, Nino surprised Alya with a twirl and a dip, leaving her both breathless and smiling.

The trumpeter blared. The piper tooted. The drummer hammered. The dancers stomped. The audience clapped.

Then, Nathaniel sang once more, strumming lightly on his lute:

"_While she taxes us to pieces_

_And she robs us of our bread,_

_Her brother's crown keeps slippin' down_

_Around that pointed head!_

_Ah! But while there is a merry man_

_In Ladybug's wily pack,_

_We'll find a way to make her pay_

_And steal our money back!_

_The minute before she knows we're there..._"

The music paused. Everyone in the hideout paused, wondering why Nathaniel didn't finish.

Then, the grinning minstrel gestured to over the people's shoulders and spoke, "Ladybug will snatch her underwear!"

Everyone snapped around.

To their delight, Marinette burst through the puppet-show curtains wearing Puppet-Chloe's dress and paper crown.

As the townsfolk laughed and cheered, the blue-haired heroine took a bow and then threw off the silly disguise.

Only once the crown was off did Adrien rush over and lift his fiancée into the air, earning another cheer from the crowd.

The music picked up again. Now everyone joined in on the dancing circle as Nathaniel sang the grand finale, accompanied by an echoing melody from his violinist after every verse:

"_The breezy and uneasy Queen of England!_

_The snivellin' grovellin'..._

_Measly weaselly..._

_Blabberin' jabberin'..._

_Gibberin' jabberin'..._

_Blunderin' clottin'..._

_Wheelin' dealin'..._

_Chloe, that Phoney Queen of England!_"

A unified cheer sounded.

But Marinette and Adrien – still smiling and laughing in each other's arms – didn't stop. Nor did the music.

Together with all of Nottingham, the happy couple danced the night away, and the trees of Sherwood Forest danced with them in the swaying breeze.

* * *

_Well, good readers, as wonderful and merry as that moment was, I regret to say that it did not last._

_The song was like a stone being thrown into a pond, and the ripples it created ultimately changed Nottingham forever._

_Over the next few weeks, every living soul in Nottingham was whistling, humming, or mumbling "The Phoney Queen of England" day and night. On some nights, my fellow musicians and I would slip into taverns and inns and play for the locals. Then we would flee just before Chloe's guards stormed in._

_It wasn't long before the song got into the soldiers' heads as well, and they too started singing it whenever they thought their officers weren't in earshot._

_While this brought some amusement and hope to the folks of Nottingham, looking back on it now, that song marked the beginning of the end._

_But the end of what, you may ask. The end of Princess Chloe's tyrannical reign? The end of Ladybug and the fall of Nottingham?_

_That, my good readers, is what you must read for yourself._


	14. Nottingham Falls

CHAPTER FOURTEEN:

NOTTINGHAM FALLS

A storm was coming.

Princess Chloe could see the behemoth of dark clouds gathering on the horizon. It stood out like a giant bruise against the pale-blue, sunny sky. A small wind was blowing towards Nottingham, slowly dragging it over. Faint traces of thunder rumbled in the distance.

The golden-haired princess was glad for the foul weather. It complimented her bitter, dreary mood.

In the few weeks since Ladybug and her band of riffraff left Stonefield in a big mess, Chloe had done nothing but brood and stew within the confines of Nottingham Castle. She ate little, but she drank a lot of red wine to calm her nerves. She also didn't sleep well anymore. More often than not, the princess was plagued by nightmares. The worst ones showed Ladybug standing beside King Felix on his throne while he condemned Chloe for stealing his throne. It always made the princess jerk awake, covered in sweat.

In addition, Chloe stopped wearing her fancy dresses and jewels. Today, she wore a plain gown of creamy, silvery silk tied in the middle by black ribbon that trailed down to the floor. Overtop of that was her long-sleeve, white shawl that also fell at her feet, upon which were a pair of soft matching slippers.

The servants had noticed Chloe's change in routine, and her dark moods, but they wisely kept their opinions to themselves. The stone walls of the castle had eyes and ears that reported directly to the princess. It was how she learned about Sir Adrien's relationship with Ladybug. One of her royal spies had overheard him speak of it to a group of peasant children that had snuck through the courtyard gate.

Chloe swirled the wine in her glass before taking a healthy sip. She sighed from the warm shiver as the liquor went down her throat.

_Adrien_. Just thinking his name in her head made the princess want to hurl something at a wall.

On the day her cousin arrived in London with his father four years ago, Chloe couldn't take her eyes off him. He was so handsome, so knightly, so _perfect_. And he hailed from one of the riches houses in all of England. Chloe had decided then to make Adrien her future husband. It was easy to make a subtle suggestion to Lord Gabriel, and he had promised to take care of the rest.

_Well, apparently, Daddio didn't take care of it well enough_, Chloe thought, swallowing a hard gulp of wine that burned her tongue. _Now Adrikins is marrying that... that... Ladybrat!_

The news of her cousin's engagement to the Red Archer had reached Chloe five days after Stonefield. The princess's scream of outrage had sent both the messenger and Sabrina fleeing her chambers in such a terror. When the handmaiden came back, Chloe was curled up into a ball on her bed. The overhang curtains had been torn off, the large mirror was shattered, and pages from books lay about the floor like autumn leaves.

Now, the servants who delivered the princess her meals had to draw straws to decide who would go into her chambers.

Chloe would never forgive Adrien for rejecting her, nor would she forgive the girl who had stolen him away from her. Ladybug had robbed from Princess Chloe for the last time!

_This is _my_ kingdom_, the royal blonde thought, sneering sadistically at the incoming storm, _and I will stop anyone who gets in my way. Ladybug. Felix. Adrien. All of them!_

And with that, she turned away from the window and strode out of her room.

Now that her mood was clearing up a bit, Chloe figured she should go to the royal treasury and see how Sabrina was handling the tax counting.

Normally, Chloe would do it. She loved the feel of gold coins jingling in her hands like little twinkling bells. But lately, her moods had kept her confined to her chambers, so the princess had no choice but to order Sabrina to manage the incoming taxes for the time being.

_I think I'll change that today_, Chloe thought, keeping her wine glass steady as she walked. _After all, as long as I have my gold, what else could I possibly need?_

She didn't have to go far. The treasury was right next to the throne room, on the bottom floor beside Chloe's tower.

Her soft slippers patted the floor lightly, so no one heard her coming.

So when Chloe neared the wooden doorway, she heard a deep, male voice crowing off-key from inside. It sounded like Sheriff Roger.

"_And she throws an angry tantrum_

_If she cannot have her way!_

_She calls for Mum while suckin' her thumb_

_Cause she doesn't want to play_!"

Chloe paused, her hand hovering over the doorknob. Her blue eyes hardened with paranoia and suspicion.

_Wait a second... Is he singing about _me?

Very carefully, Chloe used her free hand to turn the knob, inch the door open, and peer inside.

Sitting at the great wooden desk, scribbling numbers on a parchment with a feather quill, was Sabrina. But she was smiling and giggling up at Sheriff Roger, who leaned against the desk as he sang on:

"_Too late to be known as Chlo the First,_

_She's sure to be known as Chlo the Worrrrrst...!_"

He stopped and smiled at Sabrina. "How's that?"

She sighed to the ceiling. "Oh, that's _PC_ to a tea," she mused.

Then both of them broke out laughing, and the sound of it echoed through the big chamber like a banging drum.

Chloe could barely hear it over the heavy drumming in her ears, and her cheeks burned.

_They ARE singing about me! "Chlo the Worst"?! How DARE they!_

The wine glass in her hand started to make tiny, cracking noises as the princess's fingers began to crush it.

"Why do _you_ try it, Lady?" Roger asked Sabrina with a polite gesture.

The redhead straightened and cleared her throat. She did a couple of practice high notes before she began: "_Too late to be known as Chlo the First..._"

Chloe finally pushed the door open. The bright candlelight of the room illuminated her pale, white form... and her malicious scowl.

"_She's sure to be known as Chlo the Wor_–" Sabrina's teal eyes fell on the princess, and they shot wide open as though she was seeing a phantom rise up from the grave.

The Sheriff, utterly oblivious to Chloe's presence, cocked his head to the side. "Well? Go on," he encouraged.

Sabrina gulped, still looking at the princess.

The look Chloe gave her was cold but daring. _Yes, Sabrina_, it said. _Do go on._

The maidservant's hands shook so hard that her quill fell to the ground, and her lip trembled. "M-M-Merciful!" Sabrina rasped. "G-G-Gracious! Benevolent! B-B-Belov–!"

"No, Sabrina, that's not it," Roger interrupted. "It's "Measly weaselly, Blubberin' jabberin' –"

"ENOUGH!" came a banshee-like shriek from the doorway.

Sabrina screamed and took cover under the desk.

Roger spun around just in time to see a quarter-full wine glass hurling towards his head. He ducked, and it soared straight over him and crashed against the wall.

Bits of glass burst everywhere. A splatter of red wine dripped down along the stones, staining them an ugly purple.

Roger snapped back up, his blue eyes shrunken, and he looked like he was going to wet himself.

Chloe stepped ever-so-slowly towards him – her hands on her hips, her chin pointed at Roger like a knife, her blue eyes as cold as the deepest, frozen lake.

The Sheriff raised his hands as though to protect himself, and he fumbled with his hasty speech. "B-B-But... But Your Merciful... Your _Majesty!_ It's a hit... the song, I mean! Even the guards are... but it's the peasants! The whole _town_ is singing it!"

Chloe's hateful glare didn't lessen. "Oh, they _are_, are they?" she said lowly.

Behind the desk, Sabrina poked her eyes over the edge, shivering.

They feared her. But five seconds ago, they were making a laughingstock out of her! They had mocked her openly like it was common knowledge!

And if the whole town...

_Ladybug_. Chloe clenched her fists and gnarled her teeth, breathing through them heavily. _I should have known. First she robs my gold, then escapes my soldiers and snogs my cousin, and now that pastry-wretch has the gall to sing silly, little songs about me!_

This was the last straw! No more Miss Nice Princess!

"Well..." Chloe slurred darkly as she came up to a terrified Roger. "We'll give them something _else_ to sing about."

Roger blinked, looking somewhat relieved that his mistress wasn't putting the blame on _him_.

The blonde princess turned away and stepped out into the open room, staring off into space. The corners of her mouth rose up in a cruel, twisted fashion. "It's time to show Nottingham the consequences of treason." She snapped to Sabrina. "Double the taxes! _Triple_ the taxes!"

Sabrina nodded fearfully.

But Chloe wasn't done. "Fill the dungeons! Make sure anyone who so much as _thinks_ the name "Ladybug" is arrested on sight! Capture her subordinates and bring them directly to me! Squeeze every last drop of hope out of those _insolent_...!" The princess cleared her composure and said with cool sweetness, "... _musical_ peasants."

Neither Sabrina nor Roger said a word, but they both nodded and bowed.

Chloe chuckled under her breath. "They won't be so loyal to their _beloved_ hero when they all rot away in a cell while _she_ roams free. HA!" She threw her head back before smoothing out her golden hair. "Then we'll see who will have the last laugh!"

And as Princess Chloe let out a maniacal cackle that cut through air and stone, she swept out of the room and left Sabrina and Roger quivering wordlessly in their spots.

* * *

_Princess Chloe made good on her threat, to the letter._

_Unfortunately for the poor people of Nottingham, they paid dearly for her humiliation._

_Taxes, taxes, taxes..._

_As though God had foreseen this, the days that followed were wrecked by a thunderstorm with no end. Pouring rains that flooded gutters. Lightning and thunder that were hard and sharp as the cracking of a whip._

_There was barely any light or life left in Nottingham. Most of the townsfolk couldn't pay their taxes, so they were taken by the soldiers and thrown in jail._

_I myself tried to flee into Sherwood Forest with a handful of villagers, but the Sheriff's men were waiting for us. We had no choice but to go with them._

_And so I waited in the dungeon tower of Nottingham Castle, with nothing but the clothes on my back, a chain linked to my ankle, and my trusty lute..._

* * *

_Drip... Drip... Drip..._

Alix groaned and wiped her face. She had rolled over in her sleep again, right underneath a tiny crack in the ceiling where rainwater inched through.

The pink-haired girl sighed heavily and sat up, careful not to wake her mother and sister.

Nadja and Manon lay curled up together on the flat mound of straw. The widow's ankle was bound by a chain that trailed along the ground towards a ring in the wall behind her. Even Manon – sweet, innocent Manon who had never done a single bad thing in her entire life – had a heavy manacle around her leg.

Alix swallowed hard and gazed around the massive dungeon cell she sat in.

More than twenty people littered the floor – most sleeping, a few crying, others eating what little food they were given. All of them were bound in chains.

Among them, Alix spotted Otis the Blacksmith, lying against a stone pillar while another prisoner fed him spoonfuls of soup. The old man had resisted when the guards came for him, and now he had a black eye and a sore back to go with his crippled leg.

Rose was crying in Juleka's lap while the latter stroked her hair affectionately. The young blonde had been separated from her parents, who were somewhere in another cell. Rose didn't even get to say goodbye to them.

Kim was eating a piece of hard bread while Max leaned against him, sleeping. Across from the tall boy, three small boys eyed the food with pained expressions. One had tear streaks along his greasy face. Kim looked over at the children, smiled, and offered them the rest of his bread. The biggest kid thanked him and divided it up amongst him and his friends. Then, the three boy devoured the bread ravenously.

Alix tried to smile too, but she couldn't find the strength to do so.

She and her family had only been here for two days, and already her willpower was starting to drip away... just like the rain in the cracked ceiling.

"I know how you feel," said a soft voice.

Alix looked up at the fellow who stood beside her, gazing blankly out the barred window. His fingers were strumming softly on his lute, but there was no soul to the music. Just empty notes filling a room of empty hearts.

"You're thinking it's all over," Nathaniel continued, still staring at the raging downpour outside. "You're thinking there's no hope left in you to fight back."

Alix felt angry tears squeezing out of her eyes. Her bow and arrow had been seized by the guards, along with the teal cloak Marinette had given her. They had made Alix feel brave and strong; like she could do anything. Now she felt vulnerable, helpless, and useless.

She wiped her nose on her sleeve roughly. "Chloe took everything from us," Alix said, sniffling. Her deep-blue eyes became just as stormy as the sky. "But I won't let her take away my hope too. It's all I have left." She glanced around the room. "It's all _we_ have left."

Nathaniel sighed and nodded as he sat down beside Alix.

Then, he started to play again. The notes were sad, just like the minstrel, and his voice was sadder:

"_Every town_

_Has its ups and downs..._

_Sometime ups_

_Outnumber the downs,_

_But not in Nottingham..._"

A few heads turned to Nathaniel, some still crying. No one said anything – they simply listened and let the music fill them.

Alix saw Manon's eyelids flutter open, and she gave her baby sister a brave smile.

Nathaniel's song rose an octave:

"_I'm inclined to believe_

_If we were so down,_

_We'd up and leave!_

_We'd up and fly if we had wings for flyin'!_

_Can't you see the tears we're cryin'?_

_Can't there be some happiness for me?_

_Not in Nottingham..._"

Alix rested her head against Nathaniel's shoulder, fighting back more tears.

Then, her eyes narrowed with what little valour she had left. "Ladybug said there _would_ be happiness again," Alix whispered, "and I believe her. She's still out there somewhere, fighting for us. She'll come and save us." She looked up at Nathaniel with a hopeful smile. "No storm can last forever, right?"

A small chuckle escaped Nathaniel as he smiled, and he pulled Alix into a sideways hug. "Can't argue with that, Skippy. Can't argue with that."

Alix held her smile as she drifted back to sleep in her friend's arms. She held onto that hope; that belief that her "big sister" and her band of outlaws would make things right again.

Nothing was going to take that away from her. Not when she needed it most.


	15. Catch a Cat by the Tail

CHAPTER FIFTEEN:

CATCH A CAT BY THE TAIL

The afternoon sky was a pale grey, almost white. But the rain wouldn't stop.

Adrien watched it patter against the glass window as he sat perched upon the sill.

The water distorted the image of Friar Fu's garden, which appeared as dull blotches of purples, pinks, and greens. Down the hill, beyond the long gravel road, lay Nottingham. It looked more like a twisted, haunted ghost town than the village Adrien remembered growing up in – full of sunshine and laughter, who no soldiers hovering over you.

Adrien sighed and rested his head against the stone wall. He closed his eyes and listened to the bellows of the great church bell, which Ivan the acolyte rang with slow, lazy pulls.

_DONG... DONG... DONG..._

Oh, it was no good. Adrien _still_ felt like he was at somebody's funeral.

He slid off the windowsill and straightened his black tunic and cloak, which were still damp from his stroll in the rain earlier. Adrien started pacing and staring over the empty rows of pews. His footsteps echoed through the open, high-ceiling hall... and it only irritated Adrien more.

Each day, Sheriff Roger and his cronies took more taxes faster than Ladybug and her band could steal them back. Each day, the soldiers rounded up more villagers and herded them into the castle dungeons. Each day, Nottingham grew quieter and more destitute.

Off to the side, Mylene was sweeping the floor roughly, as though the tolls of the bell and the silence of the church made her agitated too. Her honey-coloured hair stood out in a bush of small braids against her grey, acolyte's robe.

Bits of dirt and dust gathered in small bundles on the ground as Mylene swept. Among them was a curved twig that looked like the curved arch of a bow.

A _bow_...

Adrien groaned, running his fingers through his flaying, golden-hair. By God, it drove him mad with worry, being away from Marinette for this long – wondering day and night where his fiancée was now, what she was doing... if she was safe.

With Chloe's guards sweeping every inch of Sherwood Forest, going back to the hideout was too risky. Now, Adrien and his friends were scattered throughout Nottingham. The safest way to communicate was by leaving messages in the church's confessional.

When Adrien had arrived earlier and entered the cabinet, relief flooded through him when he found a rolled up piece of parchment under the chair, tied with red ribbon.

_House is locked_, the message said in his lady's lovely handwriting. _Need meeting place. Talk to Uncle. I love you. Be safe._

"Uncle" was Marinette's codename for Friar Fu. The less people Chloe knew was involved with the outlaws, the better.

As for "House", that meant Nottingham Castle. And if it was locked, then _that_ meant the secret entrance Adrien had suggested they try was being watched. They couldn't get into the castle and rescue the prisoners that way.

Once again, the plan was put on hold.

Though disheartened, Adrien had made his reply message optimistic: _We'll find the key. Uncle says he'll make cookies. I love you more._ He'd rolled the paper up, kissed it, and slipped it under the chair.

Now, the lordling waited for the heavy rain to lessen before he would pull on his black hood and disappear. Catching a cold would undoubtably put another stopper in his and Marinette's rescue plans.

Ivan finally stopped ringing the bell, and he blew out a long breath as he wiped his sweaty forehead and walked back into the main hall. "Friar Fu," the burly boy sighed, turning to the altar, "I don't think anyone is coming."

Friar Fu lifted his gaze at his apprentice from his spot, where he sat reading from a book of prayers. Now he stood and bore a hopeful, elderly smile. "You may be right, Ivan," he said, "but this bell will give the poor people some comfort. We must do what we can to keep their hopes alive."

Ivan nodded sadly.

Mylene make angry strokes at the floor, and her brown eyes darkened. "Oh... how can there _be_ any hope?" she complained with a strained voice. She paused in her work and looked up. "Especially with that... that... _tyrant_ Princess Chloe taxing the heart and soul out of the poor people." She stifled and dabbed at her eyes with her sleeve.

Ivan went over and put a gentle, beefy arm around Mylene to comfort her. She leaned against his chest with a sigh.

Adrien smiled, slightly envious of the affection they shared but thankful that there was at least _one_ couple here in Nottingham that was still together.

Friar Fu went over to a small table that beheld a wooden box with a coin slot in the lid. "Yes, those poor people..." the old priest mused with pained sadness. He lifted the lid, sighed, and closed it. "And our poor box is like our church: empty."

Adrien blinked, deep in thought, and glanced at the poor box.

He remembered the first time he visited Nottinghill Church as a boy. Marinette had showed him the box; told him about Friar Fu's humanitarian efforts to raise money for the poor. It had warmed the little lordling's heart so much, he swore to make a donation with each visit from that day onward.

Surely, today shouldn't be any different?

Reaching into one of the pouches on his belt, Adrien pulled out a single copper farthing. It was all he had left since he left Nottingham Castle, and he had never kept any of the coin taken from his recent Cat Noir heists.

Adrien smiled and clenched the farthing tightly in his fingers. Then he walked over to the downhearted Friar Fu.

The priest looked up as the lordling approached.

"Take this," Adrien said, offering the copper coin. "I know it's not much, but it's all I have."

Friar Fu's grey eyebrows rose. "Your last farthing? Adrien... no. I couldn't..."

The lordling shook his head; firm but not unkind. "I was saving it for a rainy day. Well... now it's raining." He gestured to the splattered window with a lopsided grin. "Please, Friar Fu, take it. For the poor." Adrien hoped the priest would see the earnest sincerity in his eyes.

Friar Fu stared at the boy blankly. Then, a deep smile creased his face and he accepted the generous gift. "Oh, son. No one can give more than that."

He popped the coin into the poor box, and it clattered inside with a satisfying _CLINK_.

Then, the old monk pulled Adrien into a grateful hug, squeezing him tight. "Bless you, my boy," Fu sighed.

Adrien smiled as he hugged him back.

But the moment he opened his eyes and looked out the distorted window, his smile dropped and he gasped.

For there were five shapes coming up the hill along the muddy road: five figures in dark, soaking cloaks. Each one carried a sword at his belt, and they all marched in perfect unison up the trail.

"Soldiers!" Adrien rasped.

Mylene squealed before covering her mouth. Ivan pulled her close.

Friar Fu turned to look out the window. Two seconds later, he faced Adrien as though he were facing God himself. "You must hide," he whispered bravely. "The confessional. Hurry!"

Adrien didn't want to leave the priest and his acolytes alone with Chloe's men, but he knew there was no time and no point in arguing. He was a wanted fugitive. If the guards knew the Friar was aiding Adrien, he would be arrested and punished, man of the church or not.

Adrien's black cloak unfurled behind him as he raced for the tall, brown cabinet in the side of the room. He slipped inside and sealed the door just as he heard the whinnying of horses coming from outside.

"Ivan, come stand here," Adrien heard Friar Fu whisper. "Mylene, keep sweeping. Look busy."

Adrien's heart pounded, and he forced himself to breathe steadily as he sat in the darkness. There was a thick layer of lattice on the door, through which tiny lights poked through like stars. Adrien eased forward and squinted through the criss-crossed mesh, making out just enough of the hall.

The front door burst open, making Adrien jump, and a thick booming voice called, "Howdy, Friar!"

If he hadn't been hiding, Adrien would have whipped his daggers out then and there. Instead, he just growled lowly through his teeth.

Clunking footsteps echoed through the room, and a broad, blue figure emerged.

Even through the lattice, Adrien knew who the church's unruly guest was.

"What does that big-bellied bully want here?" Ivan grumbled heatedly.

"Ivan, _shh!_" Mylene warned.

Friar Fu's hunched form stepped out to meet Roger, his cane tapping hard against the floor with each step. "Good afternoon, Sheriff," the priest said. "To what do I owe the pleasure of this unexpected visit?"

"Oh, you owe me somethin', all right," Roger said matter-of-factly. "Information."

"Forgive me, but I don't... what's the phrase the young-ins use? "Catch your meaning"?"

Roger grunted before he carried on. "You were particularly close to Ladybug's father – that posh baker who died of the shivers a few years back. What was his name again?" He snapped his fingers. "Tom! Yes, that's the one! Big feller, moustache, always gave me free cupcakes."

Anger flared in Adrien's chest, but he swallowed it back down.

Friar Fu cleared his throat. "Yes. Tom was a good man, and a dear friend," he said coolly. "But pray tell, Sheriff – of what consequence is this "information" to you?"

Roger snorted and started surveying the hall.

Adrien peered out as best he could to see if any of the other guards were inside. He found none.

"I have reason to believe you've been Ladybug's informer on the nobles coming and going through Sherwood, allowing her to rob them at the appropriate time and then disappear without a trace," Roger explained. "It's quite the cover-up, I must say. No one would _ever_ suspect a priest to be a spy." The Sheriff straightened up and turned to Friar Fu with that smarmy grin of his. "And you have a reasonable motive. Tom was your friend. Why _wouldn't_ you help his criminal of a daughter, if not to honour his memory?"

_Ignore him_, Adrien spoke in his own thoughts. _Words mean nothing._

But Friar Fu didn't think so, because then his voice darkened. "That's quite an accusation coming from _you_, Sheriff. Need I point out that it was _you_ who tried to drag that poor child out of her own home, against her will, when she barely had _one day_ to grieve for her father?"

Adrien inhaled sharply.

"What was that?" Roger snapped around, his hand on the pommel of his sword.

"It's called an _echo_, my good Sheriff," Friar Fu replied immediately. "Sound travels in great halls such as this."

Adrien smirked.

Roger appeared to be having a stare-down with the old priest. For a moment, the only sounds came from the raging rainstorm outside, which was starting to get worse.

Finally, the Sheriff turned away and strutted over to the table on the far side. There was a small creaking sound, like rusty hinges being opened, and then Roger hummed with intrigue. "Well, now... What have we got here?"

Adrien stiffened when he saw the fat git turn around, and something small sparkled in his hand. The single farthing!

"What... Now just a minute, Sheriff!" Friar Fu blurted out incredulously. "That's the _poor_ box!"

"It sure is," Roger noted with amusement, tossing the coin up before catching it. "And I'll just take it for _poor_ Princess Chloe. Every little bit helps." He chuckled and stashed his newfound catch in his jiggling pouch.

It was an effort for Adrien to not burst out of the cabinet and tackle Roger to the ground. But the lordling refused to move or rage or even groan with defeat. It would only prove Roger's suspicions about Friar Fu to be true, and get him _and_ his acolytes arrested for treason.

So Adrien sat in stewing silence, biting on his lip and clenching his fists.

"Oohh...!" Mylene growled before pointing an accusatory finger at Roger. "You put that coin back!"

Ivan gently seized her by the shoulders and pulled her away.

Thankfully, Roger clasped his hands together and bowed to Mylene. "And Princess Chloe blesses you too, little sister." He smiled and gave his coin pouch a good shake, as usual.

Until Friar Fu snapped, "You thieving scoundrel!"

Adrien accidentally bumped the side of the cabinet with his elbow, and he held his breath. Luckily, Roger was too astounded by Friar Fu's outburst to notice the sound.

"First, you come in here accusing of me of aiding a wanted fugitive," Fu declared, "and now you see fit to desecrate the sanctity of God's church?!"

The Sheriff folded his arms with indifference. "Now, take it easy, Friar," he said casually. "I'm just doing my duty."

The priest scoffed at that. "Duty?" he repeated with an icy menace Adrien had never heard him use before. "Collecting taxes for that greedy, heartless, subservient, spoiled child you call your princess?"

Mylene gasped. Ivan winced.

Adrien gulped.

Roger reeled, his blue eyes going wide before narrowing ruthlessly at the priest. "Listen, Friar, you're being mighty preachy." He waved a finger in Friar Fu's face, making the latter step back. "You best mind what you say, or you're gonna preach your neck right into the hangman's noose... right beside your dead friend's little brat."

Adrien swore the entire church grew cold at that moment, sucking all the warmth right out of his marrow.

Then, like a crack of lightning, Friar Fu bellowed, "GET OUT OF MY CHURCH!"

There was the sound of wood whacking against skin, followed by Roger howling and cursing, followed by more whacking. The grunts and shouts faded away, vanishing through the open door of the church.

"Oh, my heavens!" Mylene cried. "Ivan, stop him! He's going to hurt himself!"

Footsteps pattered along the stone floor, and then silence filled the hall.

Only then did Adrien take in a deep, shuddering breath. _This isn't good_, he thought as panic rose up inside him.

It was quickly replaced by a wave of slow, icy rage.

Any self-respecting outlaw would have opened the door to the confessional, snuck out the church, and hurried off into the rainstorm while the Sheriff and his soldiers were distracted.

But Cat Noir was anything _but_ self-respecting. And _this_ time, the claws were coming out.

* * *

Lightning flashed across the darkening sky, making the ground beneath Master Fu's feet shudder.

He ignored it as he advanced on Sheriff Roger like a demon raised from hell, swinging his cane wildly.

Roger finally took the hint that he was being attacked and drew his sword. Another flash of lightning ignited along the blade, and the Sheriff pointed it at him with gritted teeth. He was obviously trying to frighten the old man into surrendering.

But Friar Fu was tired of holding back; tired of letting this brute get away with everything. Roger had relentlessly hunted Marinette as if she were a prized doe! He had made the last months of Tom's life miserable with his tax hoarding, and now _more_ lives were suffering because of him!

Rain soaked the Friar's hair and robes, and squishy mud gathered around his boots. He was shivering something fierce. But still, he pressed on.

"You want taxes?!" Friar Fu growled. "I'll show you taxes, you gluttonous fiend!" And with that, he swung his cane again.

Roger blocked every blow with his sword, his eyes hysterical.

At the threshold of the church entrance, Mylene stood and watched, clutching her arms anxiously.

Ivan came up behind Friar Fu and pounded his fists into the air. "Give it to him! Give it to him, Friar!"

As they duelled, the Sheriff's four cloaked guards encircled the pair like vultures encircling a juicy carcass. Ivan noticed them and raised his fists, glaring at them... until all four of them drew their own swords.

Friar Fu kept striking Roger's blade... until the muscles in his arms and back stiffened suddenly, roaring in pain. Fu cried out and staggered back, loosing his good grip on his cane.

The Sheriff saw his opening, and smacked the cane clean out of Fu's hands.

Mylene cried out, "No!"

The blow sent the priest falling backwards into the mud. He groaned and tried to get up, but his arms refused to obey him now. Whatever rage had burned inside him earlier was now snuffed out like a flame on a candlewick. Friar Fu slipped and slid in the mud as he struggled to move away from the Sheriff.

But Roger was already towering over him, grinning despite the fact that he was soaked. A bolt of lightning appeared behind him, turning his silhouette into a demonic shadow.

"Get away from him!" Ivan yelled, but the other guards blocked his path, swords raised.

Friar Fu felt a heavy rush of shame engulf him. Pain and sorrow glistened in his teary eyes. _Lord have mercy... What have I done?_

Roger pointed the tip of his blade at the priest's chin. "You're under arrest for treason to the crown!" he stated with a sneer.

Suddenly, a shadow swept over Friar Fu's eyes, and he looked away to shield his face.

There was a bone-rattling _CLANG_ of metal upon metal, and then the sickening splash of a body collapsing onto mud.

Friar Fu opened his eyes, and looked up at his saviour.

If the priest hadn't known any better, he would have sworn this black warrior standing before him was a living shadow sent by God. His hood was pulled down over his eyes, his cloak flapped like a flag in the angry wind, and the metal staff he grasped in his hands gleamed like a rod of silver light.

Until the figure glanced behind him at the old man, who saw a boy's face staring at him... with brilliant green eyes.

Adrien turned back to the fallen Sheriff, making sure to stand between him and Friar Fu. He crouched low on his knees like a wildcat preparing to pounce.

"Picking on a helpless old man?" the lordling mused with a cold tone. "Somebody needs to learn some manners."

Roger, groaning from the unexpected attack, clutched his arm and sat up, glaring at Adrien. "I _knew_ it..." he hissed. "I knew it was only a matter of time before you showed your snivelling face around here. I'm gonna get a medal for this. _Men!_" he bellowed to his guards. "Arrest them both!"

The soldiers closed in.

Friar Fu desperately tried to stand, to no avail. "Run, Adrien!" he pleaded. "Forget about me! Just RUN!"

But Adrien, ever loyal to his friends, whirled his staff and parried with the soldiers' swords before slipping under their defences and knocking them down. He ducked and twirled and slid, using the terrain to his advantage. He kicked one man in the gut and struck him on the back with his staff.

Then, he snapped around to Friar Fu. Unbending courage swirled like tidal waves in those pools of green.

Adrien smiled... and then looked over Fu's shoulder. "Get him out of here," he commanded.

Friar Fu barely had time to register the boy's words before two strong hands scooped up the priest and carried him away faster than a startled horse.

_Ivan._

And Mylene. The Friar heard her panting beside him as she rasped, "The woods! Make for the woods!"

The hard jogging made Fu's vision blurry, but he could just make out Roger and his men rising up from the ground like black wraiths, blocking Adrien from view.

Then... leaves.

Fu saw waves of leaves above him, dark green against the backdrop of stormy black. Instead of a downpour, he felt only a few bits of water drip onto his face.

They were in Sherwood Forest.

Friar Fu jerked himself into reality. "No!" he cried, too weak to struggle against Ivan's hold. "We have to back! Adrien! _Adrien!_"

To his relief, Ivan stopped running. But the strong acolyte didn't let go, and grief coated his wet face.

"I'm sorry, Friar," Ivan said with a heavy heart. "It's too late. Look."

Despite knowing the inevitable, Friar Fu prayed for a miracle as he looked beyond the shelter of trees towards Nottinghill.

Adrien was still fighting, his dirt-streaked face scrunched like a knight in battle. His clothes were covered in mud patches, as was his staff. His hood had slipped off, so now Adrien's hair whipped around his eyes like golden flames.

Two of the soldiers were lying on the ground again, moaning in great pain.

But Roger and the other two were on their feet and bearing down heavily on the brave young lordling.

Adrien knocked one of them away, and then snapped around to his other opponent... but not quick enough.

A tall guard slammed Adrien with his shield, causing the boy to stumble back... right into Roger's awaiting arms.

The Sheriff got the boy in full headlock, and Adrien thrashed and kicked out with his feet.

No prayers or pleas for mercy could save him now.

Roger muttered something with gritted teeth into Adrien's ear. Then, he released the boy... and smacked him on the back of the head with the pommel of his sword.

Adrien stiffened, then relaxed and fell to the ground. The mud cushioned his fall, but he remained motionless at the Sheriff's feet.

Friar Fu thought his heart would stop beating, and he sank to his knees.

"Oh, no..." Mylene murmured. She buried her face in her hands and began to sob.

Ivan was immediately holding her. "There, there..." he whispered, his voice strained.

Friar Fu shook his head. His tears vanished into the rainwater coating his cheeks. "This is all my fault." He clasped his hands to his aching chest. "Adrien... Forgive me."

He kneeled there in the dirt as he watched Roger's men bind Adrien's hands and feet with rope. Then, one of them hoisted the unconscious lordling over his shoulder and lifted him up.

"Sir?" another guard called to the Sheriff. He had a bruised eye and a small limp in his leg, courtesy of Adrien. "What about the priest? Should we go after him?"

"Leave the old man," Roger grumbled. "He's not a threat to us anymore. Besides..." He sneered at their new prisoner. "We have something even better."

The Sheriff straightened, sheathed his sword, and gestured with a wave of his hand. "Back to the castle!" he barked. "I want to get out of this stinking rain!"

Though wet, filthy, and miserable, the four guards obeyed without question and followed the Sheriff back down the road in single-file, carrying Adrien with them.

They shrank into the distance and vanished beyond the hill. More thunder shuddered through the air – a grim omen.

The patter of rain and Mylene's sobs did nothing to ease Friar Fu's grief either. What was he _thinking_, charging at Roger in such a fury? The moment the Sheriff had threatened Marinette, Fu lost all sense he had. Now, Adrien was Chloe's prisoner... and it was all because of the Friar's folly.

But if God taught him anything, it was that false actions could be forgiven. And those who sought to right their wrongs must first forgive themselves.

Brow furrowing, Friar Fu said softly, "Help me up, Ivan."

The tall, dark-haired acolyte reluctantly released Mylene and lifted his master to his feet. Mylene watched through tear-streaked eyes, sniffling and fiddling with her fingers.

Then, Friar Fu said staunchly, "Send carrier pigeons to the rest of our friends. Tell them to come to the old bakery at once. Time is of the essence."


	16. Baiting the Bug

CHAPTER SIXTEEN:

BAITING THE BUG

The throne room was the pride and joy of Nottingham Castle.

But even a simple-minded servant could tell there was nothing prideful or joyous about it today, considering the mood of the monarch who sat in it.

Princess Chloe stared straight ahead along the massive, royal-blue carpet cutting through the middle of the chamber. Towering piles of gold coins sat on both sides of Chloe's throne, sparkling with their magnificent sheen. However, the princess paid them no heed.

She seemed to be lost in thought; never so much as turning her head or fidgeting with her purple gown, which had lavender fur along her collar and the ends of her large sleeves.

Chloe did, however, tap her fingers upon the armrests, echoing the melody of the afternoon rainstorm pattering against the grand windows:

_Tap-tap-tap-tap, Tap-tap-tap-tap..._

There was a dark aura around the princess. Her mouth was tight, and the inner corners of her golden brow were angled down slightly. Globs of powder did nothing to hide the heavy, purplish bags under Chloe's eyes. She looked exhausted, and that in turn added to her low, thunderous mood.

Sabrina stood beside the princess, as always, wearing a rather depressing shade of blue.

Normally, the handmaiden would have been relieved to see Chloe quiet for once. However, _this_ kind of silence was the kind that made Sabrina's tummy squirm and the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.

It was as though the princess was a firework just waiting to burst open and set everything aflame.

Sabrina cleared her throat softly. "Your Highness," she said, "if I may say so, you're not... well..." She chose her words carefully. "You're not your usual, cheerful, genius self today."

Chloe said nothing. She just continued to stare out blankly and drum her fingers on her throne.

_Tap-tap-tap-tap, Tap-tap-tap-tap..._

That gave Sabrina an idea. "I know!" she beamed. "You haven't counted your money for _days_! That always makes you _so_ happy." She giggled and lifted a few coins off a nearby pile before dropping them back down one by one, hoping the clinking sound would lift Chloe's spirits.

It didn't.

Furthermore, Chloe's eyebrows seemed to knit closer together, and her mouth began to twitch upward.

Sabrina sheepishly inched her hand away from the gold and cleared her throat again. "Please, Your Majesty," she insisted with meek friendliness. "Why do you frown so? The taxes are pouring in, the jail is full, and... Oh! I almost forgot!"

The maidservant fell to her knees beside the princess, resting upon the armrest and grinning like a naughty girl about to spill a dirty little secret.

Again, Chloe refused to acknowledge her.

That is, until Sabrina said excitedly, "I have some excellent news, my princess: Sir Adrien has just been arrested!"

It happened so quickly, like a crack of lightning.

Princess Chloe leapt to her feet and shrieked with pure, unadulterated malice, "SIR ADRIEN?!"

Sabrina was so startled, she screamed and fell backwards into a pile of coins, causing it to come crashing down all around her. Bits of gold rolled several feet away.

"Ladybug!" Chloe raged, her fingers curling like claws and her teeth bared like a wild animal as she whirled on her lady-in-waiting. "It's LADYBUG I want, you idiot!"

Sabrina shielded her head with her arms, panting fearfully and making a silent prayer for mercy.

The princess looked away. She took deep, long, angry breaths before running her hands through her blonde curls, being careful not to tip over her heavy crown. Her voice was thick and hot like lava. "I would trade _every_ prisoner in that dungeon for that red-hooded witch! I would give _all of my gold_ if I could just get my hands on –!"

Instantaneously, like an artist splattering a canvas with a different paint colour, the hate and ferocity on Chloe's face was replaced by a look of fresh, amused surprise.

The moody princess turned back to the cowering Sabrina on the floor, and asked in her normal, sultry tone, "Did you say _Sir Adrien_ has been arrested?"

The pale-faced redhead blinked behind her arms. "I did?" She gulped and nodded feverishly. "I mean... yes! I did."

Chloe stepped closer. "When? Where was he found?" she demanded.

"Earlier this afternoon. Outside Nottinghill Church, Your Majesty," Sabrina stammered. "The Sheriff was trying to arrest Friar Fu, but he helped him escape. I mean, _Sir Adrien_ helped the Friar escape, and then the Sheriff caught him. He caught Sir Adrien, I mean."

Chloe inhaled deeply, and a broad smile cracked along her face.

Adrien was in jail. Chloe's sweet, charming, traitorous cousin – the _one_ person on this earth who Ladybug loved "more than life itself".

Dark pleasure warmed the princess's veins, and she clutched her fists together, squealing with wicked delight. "Ohhhhh, this is delicious!" Chloe purred. "I finally have it, Sabrina! I _finally_ have it!"

The handmaiden slowly lowered her arms and stared up at her mistress curiously. "Finally have... what, Your Highness?" she squeaked.

"The plan, of course. _The plan!_" Chloe stated, as though it were obvious. "The _perfect_ plan!" She rubbed her hands together. "I will use my conniving cousin as bait to trap Ladybug once and for all." Those words were spoken with a solemn, unwavering promise.

"Another... trap, my princess?" Sabrina half-whimpered, half-groaned.

"Yes, my silly servant," Chloe cooed like a mother to her child. "Don't you see? Once Ladybug learns that I have her romantic rogue as my prisoner..." She chuckled to herself. "Why, I bet my crown she'd do _anything_ to get him back."

Sabrina straightened up and rose to her feet, albeit a bit shaken. More coins fell down the disturbed pile as she moved. "I don't... I mean, I _do_ see potential in your plan, Your Highness. But... don't you believe Ladybug will _expect_ a trap?"

Chloe waved an idle hand, still smirking. "Oh, she'll be expecting it – of that, I'm sure," she said. "But it won't matter. For one thing... she won't have any choice."

The way she said that – cold and sharp as a steel dagger – made Sabrina stiffen with dread. "W-W-Whatever do you mean, Majesty?" the little maid dared to ask.

Chloe smoothed down the fur collar of her dress as she walked over towards one of the tall glass windows along the left wall. Each lightning bolt lit up the throne room with flaring white. They also lit the full, malicious features of Chloe's face.

"I mean," the princess finally answered, "tomorrow at dawn, Sir Adrien will be put to the gallows for his crimes against the kingdom."

Sabrina gasped, the sound of it echoing through the chamber. "But... Your Highness!" she blurted, rushing to her lady's side with horrified, teal eyes. "_Hang_ Sir Adrien?! Your mother's sister's son?! Your own kin?!"

Chloe rolled her eyes with annoyance. She knew where her maidservant was going with this.

The nobility called it _kinslaying_. A monarch or a high-born lord who executed a person of his own blood was forever cursed by the gods.

But the princess didn't believe in such ridiculous superstitions. Besides, Adrien was a traitor, and he would be dealt with a traitor's death. And it wasn't as though Chloe was going to pull the lever herself. She had nothing to fear.

All she cared about was catching Ladybug, and Adrien was the _purr_-fect bait.

"Yes, my hesitant handmaiden," Chloe said, gazing out into the dark storm with a look of dark humour. "And when our courageous criminal comes to rescue her feline fiancé..." Her eyes lit up as lightning cracked across the sky. "My men will be ready."

Her cold, unfeeling laughter rumbled through the chamber, along with the ominous thunder.

_Two birds with one stone_, Chloe thought sadistically. _Or in this case, a cat and a ladybug!_

She laughed again, and Sabrina didn't bother to hide her terror... or her concern for the young princess who was undoubtably slipping further into madness.

* * *

The storm finally let up when evening fell, and a red sunset poked out through the fading grey clouds.

Sheriff Roger was relieved he wasn't getting wet anymore. It made his job of constructing the castle gallows a lot easier.

The structure was set up in the stone courtyard before the dungeon entrance. It wasn't as grand as Roger wanted it, but seeing as the hanging was to take place at daybreak, he opted for the quicker, smaller construction.

All it took was a narrow wooden staircase leading up to a square platform about eight feet off the ground, held up by nothing but the foundations. A horizontal beam was held above the platform by two support poles on each side, and from the centre of the beam hung the rope that would serve as the noose. A trap door sat in the middle of the platform, right underneath the noose, and the lever to control it was primed and ready.

On the courtyard ground, a handful of weary peasants watched the construction with fearful eyes. Princess Chloe had allowed the castle gate to be opened for this reason: to remind the remaining people of the consequences of disloyalty and treason. Thankfully, none of the peasants knew the identity of the condemned prisoner. The reveal would happen tomorrow morning, when all of Nottingham (or what was left of it) would be ordered to gather in the castle and witness the execution.

Sheriff Roger hummed to himself as he finished hammering the overhang beam in place. His assistant, Nutsy, worked on the lever, his purple hood pulled on as always.

Standing guard along the edge of the platform was Trigger, the Sheriff's marksman and personal guard. A stout, vulture of a man, Trigger had a crooked nose and a bald head with thin patches of grey along the ears. Like Nutsy, he wore a black uniform with a chain mail shirt and a purple cloak. In Trigger's hands was his favourite crossbow, which he named "Old Betsy" after some charming woman he met years ago.

The Sheriff stepped away from his work and wiped his brow with a satisfied smile. "Well, Trigger," he said to his marksman, "everything's rigged up and all set."

The bald man looked behind him and nodded proudly. "Yep! It's one of the prettiest gallows you ever built, Sheriff!" he said in a deep voice.

Roger snickered and walked over to the centre to adjust the loop on the noose. "It'll certainly fit the pretty outlaw who will swing from it," he noted sadistically. "Right after her fiancé, of course."

Only hours ago, he had put Sir Adrien in his private cell to await sentencing. Roger had just finished chaining the boy to the wall when a guard came by with news of the princess's plan.

The Sheriff could still see the way Adrien's eyes had grown wide with shock upon hearing that his own cousin had condemned him to death... and that his precious Ladybug was her next target. Adrien was still shouting in defiance and writhing angrily in his chains even as Roger slammed the door shut in his face.

The Sheriff was now daydreaming about _Ladybug_ in chains...

... until Nutsy stood up and said in his nasal accent, "Sheriff, don't you reckon we outta give that trap door a test?"

Roger blinked just as the lever clicked down.

The door sprung open at the Sheriff's feet, and he fell into the hole with a startled, "OOF!" Thankfully, he was too big to fit through the narrow opening, so he now lay all smug in there with his feet dangling underneath.

A couple peasants chuckled under their breaths at the sight before wisely taking their leave.

Roger sighed with a frown and tapped his fingers on the platform. "Criminitly..." he groaned. "Now I know why your mama called you "Nutsy"."

The gangly simpleton shrugged with a childish giggle.

At least Nutsy _used_ the name his mother had given him. Trigger's real name was... well, actually, no one knew what his name was, and Roger never bothered to ask. The soldier was merely known as "Trigger" due to his paranoid nature. And his twitchy shooting finger.

The two guards had to help heave their boss out of the hole and seal it back up. This time, Roger took care to keep Nutsy as far away from the lever as possible.

Soon after, a small tapping noise sounded from behind the Sheriff, followed by a creaky call of "Alms? Alms for the poor?"

Roger almost laughed as he turned around.

Most of the riffraff had left already, but now there was a familiar, hunchbacked figure wobbling over to the gallows: her blindfold covering her eyes, her brown dress dragging behind her, her big hat sitting atop her stringy grey hair, her tin cup raised in one hand, and the other tapping her wooden cane against the stoney ground.

It was the same dimwitted, blind beggar woman Roger saw at that snippy widow's house!

The old crone stopped the moment her cane banged against the stairs of the gallows. "Oh, my... So sorry," she said dazedly. "Quite clumsy, I am."

This time, Sheriff Roger didn't hide his amusement. "Look who it is, fellas," he said to his two guards. "Our most generous benefactor!" He let out a loud guffaw, shaking his belly.

Trigger and Nutsy looked at each other confusedly, and they both shrugged.

But the hag seemed to be smiling, and she cocked her head to the side. "Hmm... Do me old ears hear the _melodious_ voice of the Sheriff?" she croaked sweetly.

"You got that right," Roger replied.

The old woman lifted her cane and used it to feel along the stairs and foundations of the structure before her. "What be goin' on around here, Sheriff?" she asked. "What sort of strange cart is this?"

Roger rolled his eyes and proceeded to get back to adjusting the noose. "It ain't a cart, you silly old lady – it's a gallows," he corrected. "We're gonna hang Sir Adrien tomorrow at sun-up."

He heard a sharp, feminine gasp of "_No!_" that sounded far too young for an old woman.

But when Roger glanced back at the beggar, she coughed into her arm and croaked with soft surprise, "No really? _Hang_ Sir Adrien?"

Nutsy nodded at her eagerly, completely forgetting that she couldn't see him. "You betcha! And maybe it'll be a _double_ hangin'!"

Trigger whirled on his partner and clamped a gloved hand over the soft-spoken idiot's mouth, causing Nutsy to let out a muffled squeal. "Dummy up, you dummy!" the marksman hissed.

Roger lifted his eyebrows at the woman as she scratched her head. Did she know who Sir Adrien was? Was she one of Ladybug's supporters? The Sheriff looked over the old hag's ragged form... and shook his head. What use was a blind, crippled crone to an outlaw?

"A _double_ hangin', eh?" the beggar asked. "Well then... who be the other guy who gets the rope?"

Trigger descended down the steps towards her, his crossbow lifted in both hands and his brow hard with suspicion. "Yer gettin' _awf'ly_ nosy for a beggar," he grumbled.

The woman waved her tin cup side-to-side in a dismissive gesture. "Aw, shucks, fellas, I don't _mean_ to be," she cooed innocently. "But tell me..." She brought her voice to a whisper. "Aren't ya boys worried that _nasty_ Ladybug will show up?"

Nutsy burst out laughing from the platform above. "Well, whaddaya know, Sheriff?" he called to his boss. "She guessed it!"

"Nutsy! Shut your trap!" Trigger snapped.

The simpleton glanced at the door in the floor behind him. "But, we just did, Trigger," he insisted with glossy-eyed confusion.

Roger pinched the part between his eyes with a heavy, irritated sigh.

Then, the beggar woman shook her head and declared, "Oh, it don't mean nothin'. The Sheriff be too clever, too crafty... too _smart_ for the likes of Ladybug, says I."

Roger blinked in surprise, and then beamed at the appraisal. "You hear that, Trigger?" he said smugly to his fidgety marksman. "For a blind woman, she sure knows a good man when she _sees_ one." He chuckled to himself.

The woman sighed with a nod. "Well, good luck to ya, fellas!" she rasped as she turned around carefully. "Now... where's my cup? Oh, right... Hehe, me thinks I'm dizzy in the noodle." She muttered some more of her old-lady gibberish as she tapped away with her cane and walked back towards the castle gate.

The Sheriff snickered at her retreating back, until he saw Trigger lifting his crossbow a little _too_ high. "Put that down, Trigger," Roger grumbled. "You're gettin' worked up for nothin'."

The marksman obeyed, but he kept giving their departing visitor the lazy eye.

"Alms?" The woman called as she went away. "Alms? Alms for the poor? Alms?"

"I don't know, Sheriff," Trigger warned, "I still think that wrinkly old crone knows too much."

"Oh, shut up," Roger snarled as he did another inspection of the gallows. "She's just a blind, harmless, stupid beggar. What's she gonna do – run off and find Ladybug? Ha! Don't make me laugh."

* * *

Marinette walked until she made it past the large, iron gate. She walked until she reached the edge of town.

But the moment she slipped into an abandoned, mud-streaked alley, the disguised blunette tore her blindfold, wig, and hat off all at once. Then, she collapsed against the cold stone at her back, which almost matched her ash-ridden face.

Her insides had turned to water. Her heart pounded ferociously. Her mind was ablaze with both panic and certainty.

Marinette almost didn't see the figure who came up beside her; who had waited for her to show up. The blunette looked to see glowing amber eyes under an orange hood.

Rena Rouge. Alya.

"What's wrong?" the hooded outlaw whispered, clasping her friend's shaking hand. "Did you find him?"

Marinette fought back tears of shock and grief as she shook her head. Then, she told her best friend everything.

When she was finished, Alya gritted her teeth and slammed a fist against the wall. "That dumb blonde bimbo! Has she gone _insane?! _Doesn't she realize what she's doing? If she hangs Adrien, she'll bring his father's wrath down on her! _And_ King Felix's! It could lead to civil war!" She pounded the wall again, wincing from the pain before letting out a soft whimper. "Nottingham would never survive. That _idiot_ has doomed us all."

Marinette hung her head down, wiping her face. "She's doing it to get _me_," she muttered with a mixture of sorrow and hatred. "Because it's _me_ she wants dead, and she doesn't care what happens next."

No doubt the princess imagined Ladybug crashing the execution in a heroic effort to save her beloved, only to be surrounded by Chloe's entire army of ruthless soldiers. Even with help from Rena Rouge and Carapace, Ladybug would never walk out of that courtyard alive. And neither would Cat Noir.

Nottingham's last hope would be crushed, and Chloe would win.

But Alya was right. If Chloe succeeded, Lord Gabriel – no matter how cold and distant he was – would be struck with horror over the loss of his only child; the last thing he had left of his beloved wife. Then grief would turn into outrage, and the banners would be called.

Chloe was risking all-our war just to catch and kill one young outlaw.

_Oh, Adrien..._ Marinette thought as her eyes burned again. _What do I do? How do I stop this?_

The night of their reunion, the blunette had convinced Adrien – convinced _herself_ – that she was doing the right thing by focusing on saving Nottingham first before focusing on their future.

_If I don't win, _nobody_ wins. Nobody will get their happy endings. Not even _us_._

And Adrien – so respectful of his lady's wishes – chose to trust her; to believe her, to fight with her.

_Whatever you decide, Milady, I'm with you always._

The suffocating pain in Marinette's chest flared with a sudden surge of courage, and her bluebell eyes hardened with resolve like twin seas under a gathering storm.

This relentless feud between her and Chloe had gone on long enough. Now, it was personal.

No one else was going to suffer. No one else was going to die.

Ladybug was going to save Nottingham. She was going to save Adrien. And if she had to give her life to save countless others who deserved to have their lives back, so be it.

Marinette turned to Alya with her chin raised. "We move the jailbreak to tonight," she whispered staunchly. "It's the only chance Adrien's got."

The fiery redhead gaped at her. "_Tonight?!_" she hissed, more out of concern than anything. "Mari, we don't have a full plan yet! There's no way we'll be ready in –!"

"We've _got_ to, Alya." Marinette's plea was more like a command, and she affixed her partner a look of burning steel being quinched in water. "We have no other choice. We _have_ to try, or Adrien will die at dawn." Her throat tightened at those words.

Alya stared at her, now more with _surprise_ than anything. Her eyes went downcast for moment, lost in thought.

Then, the redhead blew out a breath that sounded like a small laugh. "You always were one to take chances," she mused dryly. Then Alya straightened. "All right, LB. What did you have in mind?"

Marinette brought forth a daring smile. "First, we go meet up with Nino and Uncle Fu," she said. "Then, we get everyone out. _Everyone_. And finally... we give _Her Royal Majesty_ a run for her money."


	17. Into the Castle

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN:

INTO THE CASTLE

The large wagon rolled up to the main gate of Nottingham Castle. It was being pulled by a single bulky stallion, and a hooded driver sat in the front seat with the reins.

The two gate guards stepped forward as the driver urged the horse to stop. Both men carried nasty-looking pikes, and their eyes gazed up suspiciously at their new visitor from underneath their pointed helmets.

But Friar Fu willed his nerves to steady themselves, and he patted at his fake, brown beard to make sure it was still on properly.

Sneaking into the castle was one thing. Sneaking into the castle while you were a wanted fugitive of the Crown was another thing entirely.

"What's all this, then?" snapped one of the soldiers in a grumpy manner.

"Good evening, good sirs," Friar Fu spoke. "I have a special order of honeyed cider for tomorrow's execution, as requested by Her Highness Princess Chloe, God bless her."

The guards exchanged narrowed glances. "We weren't informed of any orders or late deliveries," the second one said.

"Oh? That's odd." Friar Fu's heart thumped, and he tried not to appear restless. "The order had the princess's seal on it. I have it right here. May I show it to you?"

"What are you carrying with you?" the first guard asked.

"Just barrels of cider." Fu beckoned behind him. "It's the finest in all of Nottingham. If you gentlemen would be so kind as to help, I could spare you a cup or two – free of charge, of course."

The first guard nodded, the offer tempting him. "I'll see the proof of order first. Wilfred, you search the wagon."

Friar Fu handed over the scroll he kept safe in his tunic pocket. Then, there was nothing to do but sit and wait, clutching the reins until his fingers grew stiff.

All the while, the wagon rocked as the second guard opened and inspected the barrels, each one filled with sweet, potent cider. The first soldier skimmed over the parchment, obviously fooled by the wax seal bearing Chloe's wasp-and-crown sigil.

Apparently, Alya being a blacksmith's daughter came in handy... at least, when it came to forging a metal imprint to use as a stamp. The replica sigil wasn't _as_ perfect as the original, but Alya had assured (or rather, _hoped_) the men guarding the gates during the wee hours of the night wouldn't be too nit-picky.

The soldier doing the inspecting finally climbed out of the wagon with a satisfied nod. "Yep – just cider, Leo. And lots of it."

The first guard took one final glance at the document and handed it back to Friar Fu. "All right. Bring her in. And Wilfred? Let's hoist the drawbridge once we're inside. We can't be too careful."

The two soldiers led the disguised monk and his wagon through the massive threshold. The iron portcullis hung high above them like jagged teeth threatening to chomp down.

Once they were inside the castle's bailey, the guards hobbled over to the drawbridge's two windlasses, one on each side of the stone arch. The men turned the wheels with great effort, and the chains connected to them jingled through upper holes in the stone wall and lifted the drawbridge up.

Once the entrance was sealed, Friar Fu quickly looked up towards the battlements above.

No sign of them. Yet.

_Maybe they're already over_, Friar Fu thought.

But the priest knew he couldn't think about that right now. He just kept calm and allowed his escort to unload the barrels while he waited for the next signal.

* * *

The moment Friar Fu's wagon disappeared through the gate, Marinette whispered over her shoulder, "_Now._"

She, Alya, and Nino erupted from the bushes further down the hill and ran, their cloaks flailing behind them.

When they reached the edge of the great moat – which was as thick as a river – the three friends came up to a large, strange-looking bush.

Of course, it wasn't a bush at all.

Marinette and Alya lifted off the thick tree branches serving as camouflage, revealing a miniature boat underneath, complete with a small oar.

The group had hidden the boat earlier that evening, when the castle guards on the wall where doing their rotation. Now, with the soldiers at the gate occupied, no one would be watching the front of the castle.

Marinette, Alya, and Nino wordlessly pushed the boat off the sleek terrain and into the water. The girls leapt in and Nino followed after one more shove for good measure.

They moved slowly but quietly, like a ripple on the moat's surface. Nino used the oar to paddle them across, keeping his head low and his eyes up for any stray guards on the battlements. Marinette and Alya flattened themselves into the boat, also on alert.

Not far from them, the drawbridge lifted upwards and slammed shut with a shuddering bang, making the three outlaws wince.

The tip of the boat bumped against the castle wall, just slightly. Then, Alya slipped the rope with the attached grappling hook off her shoulder, unfurled it, and carefully rose up. The boat swayed a bit, so Marinette and Nino braced their hands on both sides to try and keep it balanced.

"Hurry," Marinette breathed.

Her redheaded friend spun the grappling hook beside her in a broad circle. One, two, three, four...

On the fifth swing, Alya sent the hook flying up high. It went over the wall and lodged itself in the narrow gap between two stone teeth along the edge. The rope dangled from the hook like a dark ribbon amongst the stark, moonlit stones.

Alya yanked on the string, paused, and then gave Marinette a thumbs-up.

The young archer went up the rope first, using her feet to walk up the wall as she climbed. Alya was right behind her, and Nino was last.

All three of them heaved themselves onto the battlements one by one, their footsteps and movements feather-light. Crouching low, Marinette and Nino checked for incoming guards while Alya hoisted the rope back up and secured it across her body once more.

Marinette and Nino took this opportunity to peek down below at the other side of the gate. To their relief, Friar Fu was safe and sound in his wagon. One gate guard was quietly loading the barrels off while the other was sampling some of that delicious cider for himself.

Marinette grinned. _So far so good_, she thought.

Alya finished up with the rope. Then, with a hand motion from Nino, the three friends moved discreetly along the wall towards the stables.

As she scanned the area, Marinette saw something that made her stomach lurch: the gallows.

Tall and monstrous, it stood out in the front courtyard like a skeleton. A single, looped rope swayed from the high post above the platform – a dark beckoning of Death awaiting his victim.

Marinette's cheeks flamed, and she vowed to smash that entire structure to splinters once Adrien was freed.

She and her friends stopped and gazed down at the straw roof of the stables below. Again, they took turns going down, pausing if they ruffled the straw too much or if a small squad of soldiers marched by.

Once the coast the clear, Marinette, Alya, and Nino scrambled off the stable roof and slipped into the shadows of the bailey. On the other side, they tiptoed through an archway in a wall which led to another open courtyard. There lay the barracks, the training grounds, and the entrance to the castle dungeons. There was no cover to be seen; no stall or obstacle to hide behind safely.

Luckily, there was a small garden on the far right side of the courtyard, concealed mostly by a smaller wall with a narrow, rectangular entrance. Marinette remembered it from the days she used to sneak in to see Adrien. In the garden was a small outcropping of grass and a large, leafy tree that provided excellent shade and cover.

The outlaws checked for guards again before shimmying along the shadows and slipping into the garden. No one called out or shouted an alarm.

Safe and sound, Marinette peaked around the edge of the passage and gazed out towards the dungeon tower.

The whole thing was broad with a pointed, shingled roof. It stretched almost as high as Princess Chloe's tower on the other side of the courtyard, but this one was much thicker and had barred windows spiralling up along its sides. At the bottom of the tower was a square metal gate, sealed shut.

And guarding the gate, or rather... sleeping soundly in front of it in his chair with his feet propped on a stool, was Sheriff Roger. His hat was down over his eyes, and his hands were clasped over his big sack-of-a-belly.

But it wasn't the sleeping Sheriff who bothered Marinette. It was the two creepy-looking guards pacing in front of him. The shifty-eyed, vulture-like one carried a crossbow, and the gangly one carried a pike over his shoulder with a goofy grin on his face. Marinette could place a safe bet those two guards were Roger's two cronies she had spoken to earlier: Trigger and Nutsy. No need to guess who was who.

If the Sheriff was guarding the dungeons, that meant he had the keys to open it. But Marinette couldn't get close to Roger without alerting his two lackeys.

The blunette glanced between Trigger and Nutsy... and an idea rose in her head like freshly-baked bread rising in the oven.

Marinette told Alya and Nino of the plan, and they both nodded with mischievous grins.

* * *

In the distance, the town's bell tower chimed once. Twice. Three times. Then, it was silent.

Nutsy beamed at the sound. Then, he lifted his head and hollered, "_Onnnne o'clooooock, and aaaaaall's weeeeell!_"

A few guards in the distance glared at the purple-hooded simpleton before moving on with their patrols.

Roger started in his sleep, his snoring off kilter. With an irritated yawn, he looked over at Nutsy with droopy eyelids and grumbled, "Nutsy... you better set your brains _ahead_ a couple o' hours."

"Yessir," Nutsy said. Then, he paused and tried counting on his fingers. "Uh... Does that, uh, mean _addin'_... or _subtractin'?_"

"Oh, let's forget it," Roger muttered, waving an idle hand.

Nutsy saluted. "Yessir, Sheriff sir!" He smiled and proceeded with his walk across the courtyard. His next stop would be the hidden garden on the right.

But Roger, now awake and even more miserable, kept on talking. "Nutsy, how can I sleep with you yellin' "All's well!" all the time?" he said.

The gangly guard shrugged, almost losing his pike in the process.

Roger sighed and closed his eyes as he started drifting back to sleep.

But Trigger, ever the suspicious one, moved closer to his boss with his crossbow, Old Betsy, raised in both hands.

"Sheriff, everything ain't "All's well"," Trigger said, glancing back and forth with beady, narrowed eyes. "It's too darn quiet. I got a feelin' in my bones there's gonna be a jailbreak any minute."

Roger opened his eyes, only to go crossed-eyed upon seeing the bolt of Trigger's crossbow pointed directly at the tip of his nose.

The Sheriff reeled and batted the weapon away. "Criminitly, Trigger!" he snapped in a raised voice. "Point that peashooter the other way!"

Trigger gave him an assuring smile. "Oh, don't you worry none, Sheriff," he said, patting his crossbow. "The safety's on Ol' Betsy."

_TWANG!_

No sooner did Trigger stop speaking did the mechanism go off, and the bolt shot out, striking the wall just inches from the Sheriff with a hard _CLING!_

Roger cried out and leapt out of his seat, knocking his stool over. Then, he whirled on Trigger, who stood there in front of him utterly horrorstruck.

"Confound it, you birdbrain!" the Sheriff yelled heatedly. "What are you tryin' to do – kill me?!"

He lifted his meaty fist and brought it down on the poor marksman's head, putting a small dent in his helmet.

Trigger groaned a bit before looking up at his boss sheepishly. "Just doin' my duty, Sheriff!" he insisted with the meekness of a frightened mouse.

Roger reined in his overenthusiastic heartbeat, and let out all his panic in one long breath. But the snarl on his face remained. "You and that itchy trigger-finger of yours," he mused with annoyance.

_(Unbeknownst to either of them...)_

While the Sheriff was busy scolding Trigger, Nusty was taking position at the entrance to the hidden garden. He turned his back to it, planted the butt of his pike on the ground, and waited.

Then, someone tapped him on the head from behind.

Blinking, Nutsy was about to turn to see who wanted to talk to him...

... until one gloved hand covered his mouth, and another hoisted him off his feet and dragged him into the garden.

Nutsy let out a muffled cry before he vanished into the shadows.

Unfortunately, it didn't go unnoticed by his compatriots.

Trigger snapped into attack position, his crossbow lifted high (even though it was no longer armed). "Hey! Did you hear that?"

Roger straightened up with a darkening look. "Sure did, Trigger," he said. "By the garden." He started walking toward the source, beckoning his guard to follow. "Come on. You cover me."

Trigger obeyed wordlessly and nocked another bolt from his quiver into his crossbow.

The sound of the reload made the Sheriff pause with a worried brow. "Wait a minute. Is the safety on Old Betsy?"

Trigger patted his weapon again. "You bet it is, Sheriff."

"That's what I'm afraid of. _You_ go first."

Trigger didn't argue against it. He stepped around his boss and tiptoed closer to the garden entrance.

At the same time, Roger drew his sword and called out in a threatening manner, "All right, you in there! Come out with your hands up!"

"Yeah! Reach for the sky!" Trigger bellowed, ready to loose another bolt.

No one responded.

Roger and Trigger eyed each other before creeping closer.

* * *

Marinette just finished slipping the purple cloak on – making sure the heavy, chainmail shirt was showing underneath – when she heard Roger's voice sound from the other side of the garden wall.

"You've got nowhere to run!" the Sheriff stated – _closer_ this time. "So come on out!"

Alya and Nino, who were now tying up a gagged, shirtless Nutsy to the big tree, looked up with tense eyes, their faces betraying their panic.

Marinette just winked at them and drew the purple hood over her head. Her red cloak was safely tucked in under her mail. "Time to work my magic," she mouthed with a sultry smile.

"We'll wait for your signal," Nino whispered.

Alya, to her credit, didn't return her best friend's smile. "Be careful, Mari," she whispered, her words carrying a tiny plea.

Marinette nodded, scooped up Nutsy's pike, and strode out of the garden.

Her posture was near-identical: head hanging forward like a crane, shoulders hitched back, and grin lopsided like a drunken fool.

And when she turned to face the antagonizing Sheriff and Trigger, Marinette reeled and gaped at them from under her new hood. "Jehoshaphat, Trigger!" she said in a scratchy slang just like Nutsy's. "Point that peashooter down! I ain't done nothin'!"

Roger's face went blank for a second, and then it fell into a cranky frown. "Oh, for heaven's sake..." he groaned as he sheathed his sword. "It's only Nutsy."

Trigger cocked his head at his "partner" curiously, as though this new Nutsy had suddenly changed clothes.

Marinette didn't dare look into his eyes for too long, lest the marksman realize that her bluebell eyes, sharp cheekbones, and light freckles didn't belong to Nutsy.

Thankfully, Sheriff Roger came to her rescue. "What are you waiting for – New Year's Day?" he snapped to Trigger. "Get back to your patrol, you paranoid palooka! On the double – _git!_"

The Sheriff kicked out at the poor guard, but Trigger scrambled out of reach just in time.

"I'm a gittin'! I'm a gittin'!" the marksman blubbered as he hurried away.

Marinette watched him go with a satisfied grin. Now it was just her and Roger.

The Sheriff yawned and stomped back lazily to his spot at the dungeon gate. Marinette followed him like the loyal trooper she was pretending to be.

"That Trigger... He's gettin' everybody edgy today," Roger mumbled to no one in particular. "He's crazy. Nothin's gonna happen. _No one_ can get into this castle, not even that goody-two-shoes Ladybug." He let out a snort. "Heck, I _wish_ she was here now. That'd make Trigger's trigger-finger _real_ happy, I'll bet."

Another idea purred in Marinette's mind, and she spoke again in Nutsy's voice, "Well, if she ever _did_ show up, Sheriff, it's a mighty good thing the gold's locked up safe and sound in the... in the..." She paused for effect. "In the which place, again?"

Roger sighed, as though he's had to explain this several times already. "The princess's tower, you dopey-eyed dope. She had the whole stash moved to her personal chambers earlier today for safekeepin'. Keep your head on straight, Nutsy – it's startin' to fall off."

"Ohhhh... Right. The tower..." Marinette could barely hide the thrill in her bones at this stroke of luck. "I remember now, Sheriff. I remember."

Roger sat down in his chair and put his arms behind his head as he tried to get comfortable. "But what does it matter?" he said sleepily. "It's that charming rogue of hers Ladybug'll be after, not the gold. But she'll be too late. That _Cat Noir_ is gonna dangle from the gallows come daybreak."

The sly grin on Marinette's face grew tight, but she refused to let the fat officer's words ruin her facade.

She set her pike against the dungeon door and walked over to fix the fallen stool. "Gee, Sheriff, you look like you've been workin' too hard," Marinette said. "Why don't you sit yerself down and relax, kinda cozy-like, huh? Close yer eyes, put up yer feet..." Her eyes drifted to the ring of keys dangling from the Sheriff's belt. "Maybe loosen that belt and get all snug as a bug, huh?"

Roger yawned and lifted his feet onto the stool with a smile. "Oh, yeah..." he mumbled sleepily. "Yeah, good idea, Nutsy." He fumbled with his belt and snapped it apart, letting out a deep sigh as his belly expanded. "Ah, yeah... _Much_ better... Thank you, Nutsy..."

Marinette walked over to him and patted the stout man on the shoulders. "Just close your sleepy little eyeballs... Think of taxes. _Mountains_ upon _mountains_ of taxes."

Then, double-checking to make sure Trigger was too far away to hear her, Marinette started humming a deep, throaty lullaby. All the while, she massaged Roger's stiff shoulders with her fingers, hoping he wouldn't notice how thin and dainty they were.

Luckily, the Sheriff was already out like a light, and he smiled like a happy baby as Marinette hummed.

The blunette took her chance and lowered one hand to grab the keys. _Very_ carefully, she pulled them along the belt strap until they came free. She winced when they clinked a bit, but the Sheriff remained unresponsive.

Marinette held her breath as she stepped away softly, waiting until she was right at the metal gate before turning around and slipping the first key into the lock.

It fit perfectly.

Marinette turned the key...

_... screeeeech..._

Roger snorted loudly.

Marinette gasped and flattened her back against the gate, her blood freezing over.

The Sheriff rubbed his nose before settling back down and sighing. "Nutsy... You have such a... sweet voice..." he muttered dreamily. "Sing it one more time..."

Marinette took a deep breath before she smiled and hummed the lullaby again.

This time, she waited a couple good minutes until the Sheriff was good and asleep.

Only then did Marinette turn the rusty key in the lock, and it clicked open.

Still humming, the young archer quietly inched the door open halfway. Then, she glanced towards the hidden garden and beckoned Alya and Nino over.

Both of them came bounding towards her, light on their feet. Marinette passed Alya the keys as the redhead slipped inside. Nino followed her in, and then he pulled the gate closed with both hands.

It shut with a small but not-too-jarring bang.

"Wait a minute!" yelled Trigger's voice.

_TWANG!_

Marinette reeled as a crossbow bolt sailed across the courtyard and almost hit Sheriff Roger. Then, it bounced along the floor and walls.

The Sheriff himself, who jolted awake at Trigger's outburst, yelped and leapt out of his seat again, dancing away from the wild arrow.

"_Jailbreak!_" Trigger bellowed, racing towards the dungeon tower. "I heard it, I heard it, Sheriff! The door, the door!"

Keeping her cool, Marinette snatched up her pike. Then, she stuck the end of it around the corner of the dungeon entrance just as the marksman came barreling past her.

Trigger let out a cry as he tripped and rolled along the ground...

... stopping right at the feet of a very awake, very _cross_ Sheriff of Nottingham.

Roger glanced over at Marinette, who immediately sprang to a salute with a casual smile. Then, the Sheriff glowered down red-faced at a cowering Trigger. "Now for the last time, no more false alarms!" he scolded harshly.

This time, Roger's kick didn't miss.

Trigger practically flew onto his feet with a painful "_OWWW!_"

As much as Marinette wanted to stand back and enjoy the marksman's humiliation, she and her friends still had a job to do.

The blunette snapped to Alya and Nino and whispered through the bars, "You two free Adrien and the others. I'll drop in on the royal treasury."

Her two friends nodded and fled into the torch-lit bowels of the tower.

Marinette looked one last time at the fumigating Roger. Then, still wielding her Nutsy-like demeanour, she hobbled away like a soldier just out on his usual patrol.

_Time for the real fun to begin_, the outlaw thought, hiding her amusement underneath her broad, dark hood.

* * *

Adrien jerked his head up the moment he heard footsteps and whispers outside the door to his cell.

His wrists were painfully sore, and his arms were cramped from being suspended in chains for so long. But Adrien didn't have the strength to rise up from the floor and take the strain off.

Right now, he was more concerned about who was making that noise.

The door was made entirely of wood, but there was a tiny gap at the bottom through which orange light poked through, leaving a thin streak of flame along the dark, dank walls.

Shadowy shapes appeared along the rim. Adrien knew who they were: Chloe's guards, coming to escort him to the gallows.

The lordling wondered if he should try to fight them again, like he did when they chained him up in this horrid dungeon. But he knew that it was pointless. He hadn't slept a wink since he heard about Chloe's plot to lure Marinette into a trap, and his last meal had been nothing but a fist-sized piece of bread and a cup of rainwater. Adrien knew he had to stay awake, he had to stay strong... but his hope of getting free and saving Marinette was starting to slip away.

And now, the dreaded day had come all to soon.

Adrien groaned and tried to sit up properly. Weak or not, he would face his death willingly.

There was a metallic click in the lock, and then the door creaked open.

Adrien looked away, his eyes watering from the bigger flare of torchlight flooding the cell. Then, a shadow fell over him, and the lordling saw a pair of haggard boots.

He didn't look up as he spoke boldly, "What are waiting for – a confession? A plea for mercy? Tell my _dear_ cousin she won't be getting any pleas from _me_."

A small chuckle, followed by an all-too familiar voice: "That's a shame. I would've liked to have seen _that_."

Adrien felt all the blood rush through him in a joyous frenzy, and his eyes snapped open as he looked up with a gaping mouth.

It took the lordling only a second to realize who the green-cloaked young man in front of him was... and suddenly his hunger and loss of strength was forgotten.

"Nino!" Adrien let out a half-laugh. "Am I ever glad to see you!"

"_Shhhh!_" Nino hissed as he kneeled before his friend. "Quiet, man," the attendant whispered, holding up a single key. "We're busting out of here."

Adrien grinned and beckoned to his chained hands. "Well, come on. Don't leave me _hanging_," he said.

Nino snorted and reached up to unlock the first wrist-cuff. "Good to know a day in a dark cell hasn't dulled your sense of humour," he grumbled playfully. "Your fiancée will be pleased."

_Marinette..._ All the humour died from Adrien's face instantly. "Where is she?" If his lady was trying to rescue him too...

_CLICK_. The cuff came off, and Adrien groaned as his arm flopped to the ground, his muscles tensing.

"She took a little detour on the way here," Nino replied with an assuring grin. "You'll see her soon enough." He moved around Adrien and started on the next cuff. "Besides, you and I get the fun job."

"What job?" Adrien raised an eyebrow. Then, it hit him. "The other prisoners... We're getting them out!"

"Oh, yeah," Nino said. "And the best part? We're getting paid for it."

_CLINK_. The second cuff snapped open.

Adrien sighed and rubbed at his wrists, which were both red and raw from the rubbing metal. But at least now he could get up and move.

He let Nino hoist him up before repeating, "_Paid_ for it? I don't understand..."

Nino quickly checked down the hallway before turning back. "Look, brother... How about I divulge all the details after we help the others? We're kinda on a time limit here."

Adrien realized his best friend was right. Marinette was beyond his help right now, but the poor people of Nottingham weren't. He knew the answers to his questions would have to wait.

"All right," Adrien said, "but I'm going to need a weapon."

Nino lifted his chin proudly. "Lucky for you, they stashed all the prisoners' belongings downstairs. Shall we?"

A moment later, the lordling and his attendant marched back up through the dungeon tower – the former with his silver staff and rolled-up black cloak, and the latter with a green shield he found hanging on a wall.

They found several open cells further along the hallway, and several hushed voices emanating from them. When Adrien poked his head in one of them, he was met with the ecstatic faces of men, women, and children – his people.

Most had already been freed, and they passed around a couple of keys as they helped unlock everyone's chains.

An old woman recognized Adrien and beamed. "Sir Adrien! Thank heavens!"

"Are we really getting out of here?" a child asked his mother.

"Where's Ladybug?" a farmer asked as he helped his family to their feet. "Has she come to rescue us?"

Before Adrien could answer any of their questions, a new voice whispered further down the hall, "Adrien, over here!"

It was Alya!

"I'll stay with them," Nino said, patting his friend on the shoulder. "You go on."

Adrien nodded and rushed down to the neighbouring cell, which was much larger than the others. About twenty people were huddling together along the walls and pillars as Alya went around freeing them. Her father, Otis, had tears in his eyes when she went over to him.

Alya looked over her shoulder at Adrien and tossed him one of her remaining keys. "Lend me a hand, will ya?" she asked.

Adrien caught the key and then saw a grinning Nathaniel a'Dale sitting beside a wide-eyed Alix by the window. Adrien strode over to them first, and the pink-haired girl almost knocked the wind out of him as she embraced him.

"I knew it!" Alix said. "I _knew_ you guys would come!"

Adrien smiled as he kneeled down and started working on the cuff on her ankle. When he was finished, he unfurled his rolled-up cloak. "I got something for you," the lordling said. "Consider it a late birthday present."

Alix's dirt-streaked face lit up when she beheld her bow, her quiver, and her teal cloak. Determination flared in her deep-blue eyes. "Where're the bad guys?"

Adrien chuckled. "Easy there, tiger. Why don't you go help your mother and sister? The bad guys can wait."

It wasn't long before all the prisoners were freed on their feet again. Rose was reunited with her parents, and Nathaniel kept watch at the window. Nino came inside and asked for some help retrieving more weapons from the storage rooms downstairs, and many of the men and older boys happily volunteered.

Nottingham was ready to fight back.

After putting his cloak on, Adrien went over to Alya. "How will we get everyone out with all the guards around?" He paused. "Is that what Marinette's doing? Clearing the path to the gate?"

The redheaded outlaw made a face. "Not exactly. Besides, Friar Fu's already got a ride for us at the gate."

Adrien looked at her quizzically. "Then... where _is_ Marinette?"

"Psst – hey, guys!" Nathaniel whispered to them excitedly.

All voices went silent, and all eyes turned to the young minstrel.

Nathaniel pointed through the open bars of the window. "Look."

Adrien and Alya exchanged a knowing glance before moving closer to gaze out into the night.

"There," Nathaniel clarified, pointing to the grand tower – Princess Chloe's tower – on the other side of the courtyard.

Adrien saw it first: a flicker of dark red amidst the backdrop of pale stone. Then he saw the figure's feminine shape, her cloak falling behind her like a proud banner as she climbed the tower.

"Marinette..." Adrien whispered, his strength and resolve returning faster at the sight of the woman he thought he'd never see again.

A few of the townsfolk gathered to get a glimpse of their heroine, and they whispered excitedly amongst themselves.

"All right, all right, everyone back it up," Alya snapped not unkindly. "Move out of range of the window. Ladybug's going to send us a special delivery."

Adrien blinked. _What sort of delivery is Marinette going get from all the way...? Ohhh! I get it._

Chloe may be a princess, but she hoarded all of her wealth like a dragon. And like a dragon, she always kept her gold in one place.

A feline smirk spread across Adrien's face as he watched his lady from afar. "Talk about a _golden_ opportunity," he murmured.

His only hope now was that Marinette's greatest heist yet wouldn't be her last.


	18. Tower Heist

**LXP: Hi everyone! So sorry for the agonizing five-month long wait. I lost my writing momentum, but now I've got it back.**

**So, without further adieu, here is the next chapter! Enjoy!**

* * *

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN:

TOWER HEIST

Marinette was halfway up the royal tower when she wished she had worn gloves.

Her fingers were numb and red from having to dig them into the thin, chalky creases of the stone bricks. A few additional cracks along the wall made the accent easier, but it still hurt for Marinette to grab onto them and pull herself up. Nimble as she was, she was made for leaping onto branches where there was always something somewhere to grab onto, not flat towering mounds of rock that guaranteed a quick death at the slightest slip.

The early morning breeze blowing against her wasn't helping either. Marinette shivered, and her red spotted cloak flapped impatiently at her back. _Keep going, keep going…_ The young archer snapped her teeth together with resolve and climbed onward, breathing heavily.

Nottingham was counting on her right now. Adrien was counting on her.

At long last, Marinette grabbed onto a thin ledge that circled the tower just below the grand balcony. Heaving herself up, she balanced on the soles of her feet very carefully before straightening and flattening her back against the tower. Not an easy feat, considering her bow and quiver were in the way, but she still managed to stand without bending over.

_Phew_, she sighed. _See, Ladybug? Just like climbing a tree._

Returning to the situation at hand, Marinette shimmed along the ledge and peered down cautiously towards the ground. Fifty feet below, royal guards moved around like cockroaches. On the other side of the courtyard, Sheriff Roger snored away peacefully at the foot of the prison in his comfy little stool. Trigger was nowhere to be seen. Odds are, Roger had sent the paranoid marksman to bother someone else for the rest of the night. Or maybe Trigger went looking for Nutsy.

Once Marinette had left the courtyard earlier, she discarded Nutsy's cloak and chainmail and tossed them into an empty barrel. But the _real_ Nutsy was still tied up to the big tree in the garden next to the courtyard. There was a good chance that Trigger or some other soldier would find him and sound the alarm.

Double-checking to make sure no one along the battlements was watching, Marinette secured the coil of extra-long, extra-thin rope over her shoulder one last time.

She spat a good chunk of saliva into both her palms, rubbed them together, and looked up at the balcony railing hovering over the great expanse before her. It was just one good jump away, but with the little foot-room she had, it would have to be a _really_ good jump.

Marinette took a deep breath, remembering her father's dying words over the taunting wisp of the wind:

_Be brave… be strong…_

Ladybug propelled herself from the tower...

… and latched her sticky hands around the tiny pillars of the railing.

Her heart flew to her throat, and she swallowed a hard gasp as her calloused fingers burned once again from fatigue. Her feet dangled precariously in mid-air.

None of the soldiers noticed. _Yet._

Grunting under her breath, Marinette swung her feet up and hooked them onto the top of the railing, allowing her to climb further up with her hands and lift the rest of her body over.

The blunette panted with relief as she fell to her knees on the balcony, her cloak falling over her like a reassuring blanket. _I did it!_

Then, a harsh snort-like sound – like an angry, wild boar – made Marinette jump to her feet, reaching for her bow.

But she froze when she realized the source was none other than Princess Chloe of England.

The blonde monarch was sprawled out upon the grand mattress of her four-poster bed, her bare feet poking out from underneath her blue-velvet quilt. Her golden hair was all rolled up and tucked into an adorable, laced kerchief. She was clutching a yellow, creepy-looking teddy bear against her, and her mouth grew whale-wide with each new, obnoxious snore.

Marinette had to press a hand to her mouth to stifle her laugh. _Alya's gonna be sorry she missed this_, she thought.

Then something else in the bedchamber caught the blunette's eye: bags. Thick, shoulder-high mounds of fat leather bags, each one tied closed with a small string. They all carried a pungent metallic smell; a dirty, rich smell.

Chloe's gold – all of the tax money she hoarded from the people of Nottingham. Just like Sheriff Roger had said.

At that moment, Chloe jerked violently. "Ladybug?" she mumbled.

Marinette stiffened again, pressing herself against the threshold of the open entrance.

The princess murmured something inaudible before snuggling against her teddy bear with a contented sigh. "I'll… I'll getcha…" she yawned, still asleep. "I will… Ladybug…" Her body relaxed, and then she broke out into snoring once again.

Marinette blew out a soft breath, smiling. _No time for amusement_, she told herself.

Crouching low, she tiptoed on silent feet to the end of Chloe's bed. She slipped off her rope, her bow, and one of her arrows. Marinette tied one of the ends of the rope to her arrow, just behind the head. Next, she hooked the whole thing around the top-front banister of Chloe's bed, which was made of smooth cylindrical wood adorned with golden leafy accents. All the while, Marinette's bluebell eyes darted to Chloe whenever the latter moaned or purred in her sleep.

Finally, Marinette took the roped arrow and nocked it against her bowstring. Stepping quietly back onto the balcony, the archer raised her arrow and aimed at one of the high barred windows of the prison tower.

There was a soft _twang_, and the red-fletched arrow shot over the courtyard, dragging the rope with it.

* * *

Adrien heard the incoming _whoosh_ before something red streaked through the window and embedded itself into one of the wooden beams of the prison cell.

Several people gasped and jerked back, only to break out into relieved smiles when they saw the arrow. And the rope.

Adrien quickly yanked the thing out of the wood and hooked it through one of the large rings in the back-stone wall. Then, he drew it against his own bow – one of many that Nino and his company had fished out of storage – went back to the window, and took aim at the open balcony of Chloe's tower.

"Right back at ya, Milady," Adrien whispered with a feline grin.

He fired, and the arrow zoomed through the air with the rest of the rope in tow.

* * *

The arrow struck the wooden banister with a dull _thud_.

Princess Chloe grumbled and rolled over, muttered something incomprehensible before drifting back into dreamland.

Marinette wasted no time taking the arrow off and tying both ends of the long rope together, making sure that the two parallel lines between here and the prison were taut. Within seconds, she made a perfect pulley system.

Her eyes scanned the heaping piles of gold. So many bags, so little time. She huffed gently through her nose. _Better get started._

She went to the closest pile and picked up one of the bags with delicate hands. It was heavy, but not so bad that she couldn't lift it above her head. Marinette checked on the sleeping Chloe again before attaching the string of the bag onto the far end of the rope pulley.

She did the same thing with four more bags. Then, Marinette reached up, pulled down on one of the rope lines, and let it go with a _twang_.

The motion reverberated down towards the prison.

* * *

Alya felt the rope rattle in her palms. "That's the signal!" she whispered. "Now!"

Nathaniel, Otis, and a few other men heaved the rope back, moving in unison. Left hand, right hand, left hand, right hand… one fluid motion after the other.

Alya pulled with them, smiling when she saw the small dark bulges dangling from the far end of the rope. More and more appeared, moving in single-file above the courtyard grounds like bubbles bouncing steadily through the air. Hopefully, none of the patrols would bother to look up and see the strange sight above them.

_We might actually pull this off_, Alya thought with enthusiasm.

When the first bag slipped through the bars of the window, Nino untied it and handed it to Adrien, who passed it to Nadja. Then, Nino undid another bag, and the cycle repeated. Within minutes, there were so many bags coming in that a few villagers volunteered to help unload them. Each bag was passed to the people in the back, who would carry them to the other prisoners in the tower before hastening back for more.

Adrien saw the glowing smiles on the peoples' dirt-streaked faces; the way their eyes lit up with joy the moment they received the money they had lost. The lordling could almost picture what they were thinking: no more going to bed hungry, no more scrimping for scraps, no more overworking. For the first time in four years, the villagers of Nottingham could live and be content again. They could be _happy_.

Marinette's greatest wish was being fulfilled.

Manon squealed excitedly as she lifted a smaller bag into her arms, prompting Alix to put a finger to her lips.

Nino took a break from unloading the bags and picked up one himself before turning to the prisoners in this cell. "All right, folks, listen up," he called in a low voice that wouldn't carry through the stone walls. "I'm gonna lead the first batch of prisoners to the gate. Those with weapons are going to form a barrier around the women and children, and follow me through the bailey. Stay quiet, stay close, and give a soft whistle if you spot any soldiers."

"What about the Sheriff?" a farmer asked, pulling his wife and daughter close to him.

"Leave him to me," Adrien answered, digging the butt of his staff into the ground staunchly. "I owe him a good bonk on the head."

Nino nodded with a smirk. "Lead the way, bro."

Adrien saluted to Alya and Nathaniel before pulling his black hood on and stealing into the hallway. Padded footsteps thundered behind him.

Down the spiral stairs, they came to the gated doorway.

Outside, the Sheriff of Nottingham was still fast asleep.

Adrien glanced back at Nino and winked before stepping over and inching the iron gate open.

Roger sniffed and sighed as he dozed away, happy as a fat cat. Above him, the assembly line of bags continued to shimmy into the prison.

But then, a dull sparkle in the air caught Adrien's eye… and he gasped.

One of the bags had a small rip on the side, and a couple of gold coins were dripping down towards the ground like drops of rain. They chimed loudly upon the cobblestones, making Adrien wince.

By some sheer will of misfortune, one of the coins bopped Roger on the nose, and he stirred with a scrunched-up frown.

"What's goin' on?" Nino whispered from behind.

The torn bag finally slipped through the window bars, but the Sheriff was now starting to open his eyes.

Adrien signalled hastily to his best friend, who nodded in agreement.

In a single bound, they pounced on Roger.

* * *

Trigger heard a muffling and a scuffling going on around the corner of the prison tower. Lifting Old Betsy to his nose, he meandered quickly towards the prison entrance.

To his bewilderment, Sheriff Roger was still leaning back on his stool, his blue cap hanging over his eyes and a lazy smile plastered on his fair face. He wore a black cloak, which obviously substituted for a blanket.

Trigger swallowed hard, knowing he was going to get clubbed again for disturbing his boss's rest. But he _knew_ something was wrong here. He could feel it rattling his gut something fierce. The Sheriff _had_ to know.

Clearing his throat and keeping his beady eyes vigilant of his surroundings, Trigger approached the sleeping officer. "Now, uh, Sheriff?" he asked, trying to sound casual. "Don't get yer dander up, but… I still think that –"

He lost his voice the moment he turned to look at the Sheriff.

The person staring back at him was not Sheriff Roger, but a mischievous boy with golden streaks poking out underneath his borrowed cap, and green eyes that became cat-like in the dim moonlight.

Trigger gasped, but then Sir Adrien had the old vulture in full headlock, one hand stifling his rising cry for help. He struggled and squirmed, but it was no use – the lordling was nimble and tough compared to the fidgety marksman.

"Nino," Adrien hissed at the open door. "Get going. Hurry!"

Trigger had no choice but to watch with horrific eyes as a dark-skinned young man carrying a bag and a shield led a profession of prisoners out the tower and into the shadows of the castle.

* * *

By the time Marinette was on the last bag, the bell tower chimed five times.

She paused and gazed out at the open sky. Midnight-blue was slowly giving way to a pastier cornflower shade, and streaks of purple and pink were starting to pour out from behind the silhouette of the castle. Sunrise was close.

Marinette prayed with all her heart that Adrien and the other prisoners were safe and sound with Friar Fu at the main gate. She could afford to fend off a battalion of armed soldiers if need be, but a bunch of innocent villagers could not.

The young archer did one final sweep of the bedchamber. The floor was now completely bare, save for the lush carpet and the vanity with the stool in the corner. Not a single coin or bag to be seen.

Until Marinette's eyes fell upon the still-sleeping Chloe, and she saw something sticking out from behind the princess's pillow. Marinette twiddled her fingers in contemplation. She _reaallly_ shouldn't… but a good thief never left anything behind.

She crept along the bedside and gently lifted the pillow up smidge-by-smidge. Chloe mumbled in high-pitched tones and licked her lips, but she didn't open her eyes. Holding her breath, Marinette reached in with one hand to grab the bag of gold. Once she had it and lifted it away, she lowered the pillow back down onto the mattress.

Chloe started whining and thrashing, like a child having a nightmare. But before Marinette could think of what to do, the princess stuck her thumb in her mouth. Just like that, she sighed and sank back into her pillow.

Marinette blinked incredulously before shaking her head with a soft tsk. _Ladies and gentlemen, the Phoney Queen of England_, she thought. She gave Chloe a mock curtsy before turning back to the balcony.

She didn't hear the door to the bedchamber click open, but she heard the rusty screech of the hinges.

Marinette froze in her spot before pivoting around sharply.

Her stomach turned to acid as Sabrina stepped into the room, the early-morning light bouncing off her sheen purple nightgown. The maidservant was carrying a small candlestick, and the tiny flame illuminated her sleepy teal eyes.

Those same eyes went as wide as saucers at the sight of the red-hooded vigilante… and the bag of gold in her hands. "Ladybug..." the redhead squeaked.

Marinette spun back around and rushed for the exit.

Behind her, Sabrina screamed, long and hard. The shrill sound echoed off the stone walls. A small flock of pigeons on the far side of the castle scattered. The heads of guards above and below snapped up, looking for trouble.

Marinette leaped onto the railing and grabbed onto the rope. She felt gravity yank her down, and she cried out before the rope went taut and stopped her fall.

"LADYBUG!" Sabrina bellowed from the top of her lungs. "LADYBUG'S HERE! GUARDS! GUARDS!"

Marinette cursed. She hooked her legs onto the rope and shimmed down as fast as she could, one hand clutching the gold bag to her chest.

Bedlam erupted in the courtyard. Soldiers were shouting. Patrols ran along the battlements to get a better look… or a better aim. A few archers below fired at Marinette, and she moved faster while arrows breezed past her.

Then, she heard another voice from the royal tower shriek, "THIEF! MY GOLD!"

Marinette glanced behind her to see Princess Chloe pressing herself against the balcony railing, staring down at her archenemy. The blonde tore off her kerchief, causing frizzy cascades of pale hair to explode around her head before dropping to her shoulders. The princess's blue eyes became frozen daggers outlined in angry red. Her teeth were borne like a wild animal going in for the kill, and Ladybug was her prey.

Then Marinette saw the sword in the princess's hand. It lifted up high in a broad, silvery arc.

Someone shouted "No!" from below.

_Adrien!_

Marinette felt the rope snap before she heard it. She screamed as she pitched towards the earth, arms and legs flailing, staring up at the blood-etched heavens.

Then…

Marinette's cry broke off as something collided with her and she went rolling dizzily along the cobblestones. It still hurt, but that same something – no, some_one_ – had their arms wrapped around her head, protecting her from serious harm.

The outlaw and her rescuer landed in a crumpled heap, with the latter lying on top. Groaning, Marinette could barely hear the shouts of Chloe or the guards over the rigorous pounding in her eardrums. Or the heavy breathing of her rescuer, which warmed her blood-drained cheeks.

"Owww…" the stranger winced. "That's gonna hurt in the morning. Oh, wait."

Marinette's vision refocused, and that's when she saw the one face she had been longing to see all night.

"Nice of you to _drop in_, Milady," Adrien said with a painful grin.

The blunette broke into a relieved laugh. "Kitty!" She tossed the bag of gold aside and practically pinned the lordling to the ground as she embraced him. His arms immediately slid protectively along her back, like they belonged there.

Daybreak had come, and her fiancé was still alive. They had saved each other.

The realization that they were both still inside the castle grounds made the short reunion bittersweet. But for just this moment, when all hell was breaking loose around her, Ladybug was overjoyed to know that she would have her Cat Noir at her side once more.

* * *

The sky erupted with red and purple – a fire to match Princess Chloe's wrath.

"They're getting away with my gold!" she wailed. She clawed at her hair, her blue nightgown, her face, and the railing of her balcony as she saw the events unfold before her in the courtyard below.

Ladybug was leading the charge, safe and sound thanks to her precious Adrikins. Prisoners were filing out of the opposite tower, each one carrying a bag. They marched together like a horde of ants and raced out of sight, no doubt heading for the castle gates. Meanwhile, the soldiers were getting picked off by Ladybug, Rena Rouge, Cat Noir, Carapace and a few other villagers who had gotten their hands on some weapons, clearing the path for their families.

All the while, Chloe breathed through her teeth like a dragon, her blood steaming with unkempt rage. "No… No… No! NO!" she yelled, her scalp protesting against the fingernails she tore through her tangled hair. She leaned over the railing and bellowed at the guards, "I won't let her get away again, do you hear me?! I WON'T ALLOW IT!"

Beside her, Sabrina wisely stepped away from her mistress and curtsied. "I'll see to it right away, Your Majesty," she blubbered. "Fear not – we _will_ catch her this time." She swept away and exited the bedchamber, her purple nightgown trailing behind her.

Chloe didn't acknowledge her handmaiden's hasty departure. Her mind was falling to pieces. Her emotions were a raging storm of wind and flame. Her chest constricted until she couldn't breathe.

Why? _Why?!_

Why did Ladybug always find a way to upend her brilliant plans?! First Stonefield, and now here – in her own castle?! Was the princess truly cursed to suffer at the hands of a common criminal… and a _peasant_ at that?! She had lost everything to Ladybug: her glory, her reputation, her cousin, and now that little witch had taken her gold too!

That was the final straw.

Chloe exhaled long and deep, her fingers curling against the railing. A couple of her fingernails were fractured at the tips, but she no longer cared. "No," she growled. "Ladybug is mine. _I_ will catch her. Because if you want something done right…" A dark, wicked chuckle escaped her lips. "… well, you have to do it yourself."

* * *

"Everybody, this way!" Marinette called as they entered the bailey.

The people of Nottingham ran with all their might towards the castle gates. Men shielded the women and children, and many of the little ones had to be carried. But they pressed on, yelling with newfound courage and raising their stolen weapons high.

Friar Fu waved at them frantically from the top of his wagon. The two guards who led him in where lying against the wall, passed out from too much drink. Now there were no soldiers securing the entrance.

But a good chunk of them were charging into the bailey to stop the jailbreak.

Worse still, the castle drawbridge was still drawn.

Adrien took out a couple of archers on the battlements with his bow before turning to his best friend. "Nino! Help me get that bridge down!"

"Little busy right now, Your Lordship!" his manservant shouted back as a hulky-looking brute bore down on his shield.

A red arrow clanged against the soldier's helmet, leaving him momentarily dazed. Nino took his chance and bashed the man full in the face, sending him sprawling to the ground. Nino thanked Marinette, who nodded and proceeded to fire at the next closest soldier.

Only then did Cat Noir and Carapace head for the twin windlasses holding the drawbridge up. Nathaniel and a few others went with them for extra support.

"Get the children and elderly into the wagon!" Alya shouted, tripping up a guard and knocking him out with a punch.

The townsfolk obeyed, running with haste towards Friar Fu. The youngsters were loaded into the wagon, while the older folk shimmied inside carefully. Otis had to be helped in due to his crippled leg. Once the children were secure, some of the women climbed in to be with their little ones, but a few guarded of the wagon with their husbands and brothers. Alix was among them, letting her arrows fly while her teal cloak fanned out around her like a protective shadow.

In a manner of minutes, the wagon was full, and the rest of the soldiers had been beaten back. But more were coming, of that Marinette was sure.

"That's all of them!" one of the men shouted to Adrien.

The lordling signalled to Nino. As one, they pushed down on the levers of the two windlasses with all their might.

The chains rattled through the stone holes in the wall, and fresh light poured through the entrance as the drawbridge fell across the thick moat with a hard _SLAM!_

Adrien waved at the villagers. "We're free! Let's get out of here!" he called.

Friar Fu lashed out with the reins, and the two horses sped away with the wagon and its passengers in tow. The remaining villagers followed close behind, keeping watch for any stray soldiers. Adrien and Nino led the procession over the bridge and onto the other side of the moat, while Alya and Marinette picked up the rear.

There were several cheers from the wagon, and Otis waved his crutch in the air.

Marinette smiled, sighing as her aching feet sank into grass and dirt.

But then…

"Mama!"

The small, familiar voice – and the direction it came from – made Marinette's blood turn to ice, and she came to an abrupt halt.

At the same time, she saw Nadja's ashen face emerge from the sea of heads in the wagon, shrieking, "_Stop!_ My baby!"

Marinette whipped around, her eyes darting back to the innards of the castle bailey.

To her horror, Manon was running towards the open gate, clutching her bunny doll to her chest. "Mama! Wait for me!" the child called. Then, she stumbled over her tiny feet and fell flat onto her stomach.

Three archers appeared in the distance, gaining up on the girl.

Alix stopped just a few feet away from Marinette, her mouth dropping with horror. "Manny!" she cried.

Marinette saw the anger in the girl's eyes as clear and hot as the red sun poking above the trees of Sherwood Forest. She saw the desperation; the irrational bravado. She tried to grasp Alix's shoulder, but the young archer swept past her in the blink of an eye, racing back towards the castle.

"Alix, _no!_" Marinette cried.

Fear recoiled in her gut, followed by slow-burning resolve that willed her to start running after her friend. She heard Adrien shouting her name, but she ignored him with a painful tang in her heart.

Gripping her bow with bone-cracking strength, Ladybug charged back into danger. The gaping mouth of the portcullis swallowed her whole, and the shadows of the castle walls enveloped her.

Far ahead, Alix was kneeling beside a crying Manon, taking aim at the three archers that were just about to fire.

But Marinette was faster. Her whizzing arrow knocked the bow out of one guard's hand, causing him to stumble into his partners. Both their arrows missed Alix and Manon by inches.

"There's Ladybug!" Sabrina's voice hollered in the distance.

Marinette lowered her bow and rushed over to stand protectively in front of the two sisters, counting the number of soldiers pouring into the bailey. Sabrina was among them, along with Sheriff Roger, who lifted his blade at Marinette as soon as he saw her.

"_Seal the gate!_" the plump man roared.

"Alix, get Manon out of here," Marinette stated with rigorous, unwavering calm. "I'll cover you."

The pink-haired girl slipped her bow over her back. Then, she scooped Manon into her arms and took off back towards the castle gates.

Marinette nocked another arrow before following them. The ground beneath her feet trembled from the stampede of enforcers coming their way. Her throat was raw from running, but she kept going knowing that the inevitable was about to happen. "Faster, Alix!" she yelled, her voice cracking. "Don't stop!"

Her words had the desired effect, and Alix picked up the pace, bounding forward like a frightened rabbit.

Manon stared back at Marinette, reaching for her with her little hand. "Ladybug!"

"I'm right behind you! Keep going!"

Within seconds, Alix burst through the open gateway with her little sister. She skidded to a stop as soon as she reached the middle of the drawbridge.

At the same time, another figure came running from the other side. His black cloak made him look like a raven taking flight against the backdrop of sunrise.

Marinette was only five steps away from freedom… from _him_…

… when she heard the unmistakable sound of a thick rope snapping. It broke through the silence like the cracking of a whip.

Then, the portcullis came down.

The red-hooded outlaw could do nothing but stop dead in her tracks as the jagged iron teeth slammed down in front of her, crashing against the stone floor with a resilient _BANG!_

Adrien, Alix and Manon stood on one side of the closed gate, basking in the glory of the newborn sun.

Marinette stood on the other side, trapped inside the grim darkness of Nottingham Castle with the most ruthless army of soldiers in all of England.


	19. Ladybug's Final Flight

CHAPTER NINETEEN:

LADYBUG'S FINAL FLIGHT

Laughter – cold as the hardest winter – cracked across the bailey, sending a jolt of apprehension down Marinette's spine.

She glanced over her shoulder, not bothering to hide the distress in her eyes; the fear that all hunters and thieves feared. She was trapped.

Sheriff Roger and his men halted a few feet away from the hooded outlaw, grinning under their visors like savage wolfs encircling a juicy piece of meat.

"Ha-ha! We've got you now, Ladybug!" Roger cawed, lifting his sword like an executioner's axe. His hat and cloak were missing, so Marinette could see the greedy smugness all over his plump face. "Looks like there'll be a hanging after all!" His broad body shook from head to toe as he cackled.

His companions joined him, brandishing their weapons with cruel softness, as though wanting to savor the moment.

"No!"

Adrien's cry made Marinette stare back at him through the great portcullis. Her throat constricted as her fiancé gripped the bars and gave them a desperate shake, as though he was trying to tear the whole thing off its hinges. She loved him for that, but they both knew it was pointless.

Alix came up to the gate beside the lordling, still holding Manon in her arms. The little archer's face was white with horror. She looked torn between protecting her little sister and saving the young woman who was the closest thing she had to an older sister.

But Marinette knew there was only one option. It swept over her veins like a cool breeze that made the leaves of Sherwood Forest dance along the branches.

Adrien was safe. Her people were safe. Ladybug had kept her promise.

But this wasn't over yet.

Furrowing her brow, Marinette reached through the bars and grasped Adrien's hand. Loving and gentle, but firm and resolute. "Go," she said, the single syllable sharp and deep. "Don't worry about me. Get them out of here."

He frowned and shook his head, like she knew he would. "I'm not leaving you," he stated, though his voice broke like an old string on a lute.

"Ladybug!" Manon cried in Alix's arms.

Marinette smiled for both of them, the sun glistening off her teary eyes. "I'll find another way out," she said more softly. "I promise."

Alix's lip trembled. "They'll _kill_ you…"

To her own amazement, Marinette shrugged. "I'm Ladybug," she told them as though it was all the assurance they needed. "No one can catch _me_."

Her gaze fell back on Adrien, and she could tell he was fighting with himself. His fingers tightened around her own, refusing to let go but knowing that he must. Marinette stared long and hard into Adrien's green eyes, like she was focusing on a target. "I'm with you always," she whispered, her voice etched with the same passion from that wonderful night they had together in the forest.

Adrien's face slackened at those words – _his_ words. The smile he gave her was faint but still as _Cat Noir_ as ever. "Always," he said.

She returned the smile… and then pulled free of his grip and stepped away from the portcullis.

"Ladybug, no!" Alix cried. She reached one free hand through the bars, only to be pulled back by Adrien.

"Go!" Marinette shouted with a voice befitting a queen.

Then, sweeping her red polka-dotted cloak around her, Ladybug turned to face the Sheriff of Nottingham and his posse.

One woman with a bow. Two dozen men with swords and spears.

Roger tapped the flat blade of his sword against his palm again and again, still giving his quarry that malicious grin. Four years' worth of hatred and humiliation lay hidden under that mask of triumph. "You're all alone now," the Sheriff stated with false pity. "You've got nowhere to run this time."

Marinette slipped her hood off, shaking her loose ponytails out.

Then, to the surprise of every soldier standing before her, Marinette dropped her bow.

The cherrywood clattered onto the cobblestones with a soft chime before settling down. Marinette undid the strap across her chest and tossed her quiver away. The only thing left now was her dagger, which she unsheathed from the holster on her right thigh and slid along the ground to the side.

The young archer straightened and lifted her hands up. "Indeed, Sheriff," she sighed dramatically. "I salute you. You've won. Take me as your prisoner."

The guards exchanged bewildered glances.

Roger wasn't having it. He knew Ladybug too well. "What are you playing at, you meddling insect?" he grumbled, stepping towards her cautiously. His beady eyes kept glancing between Marinette and her discarded weapons. It wasn't until he was within arm's reach of the outlaw that he spoke again. "You know when to pick your fights, but… _surrender_? That ain't like you."

Marinette grinned sweetly, her bluebell eyes glinting with mischief. "What can I say? I'm unpredictable. _You_, on the other hand…"

With a single flourish, she unclasped her cloak from her shoulders and swept it over the Sheriff like a blanket. Roger let out a muffled yell and started thrashing his arms around, trying to get the red fabric off. With a hard thrust of her boot to Roger's chest, Marinette sent him tumbling backwards onto the ground.

At that moment, two of the Sheriff's men charged forward with lowered halberds.

Weaponless and cloak-less, Marinette spun back around and leapt onto the portcullis. She scrambled up with all her might just before the halberds rammed into the bars.

Shouts rang out, some calling for the marksmen on the battlements to shoot Ladybug.

Marinette reached the top of the portcullis, and then inched her fingers into the creases of the stone archway. Little by little, she climbed. She was surprised by how much faster and easier it was without her quiver, or her cloak.

She had known all along that she couldn't take on that many soldiers by herself, so her best option was to catch good ol' Roger off-guard and make a quick getaway. As for climbing to the top of the gate… well, _that_ actually wasn't part of the plan.

_You're taking too many chances, Mari. _Oh, if only Alya could see her now.

Something clunked against the wall beside her: a spear. Good, no archers yet. But Marinette knew she shouldn't push her luck. Once she finally heaved herself onto the top of the wall, she stood and raced along the battlements. More soldiers shouted, and the thunder of boots on stone rumbled below.

Ahead of Marinette stood the entrance to one of the castle watchtowers. No doubt the soldiers would find their way up through the door at the bottom.

_I need a place to hide_, Marinette thought as she ran. _Once I evade them, I can –_

She gasped when someone emerged from the watchtower to stare right at her: a royal archer.

Marinette nearly stumbled as she halted. She turned around, but another archer appeared along the archway, nocking his arrow. Cursing under her breath, Marinette stood there waiting, eyeballing both men with hard glares.

The first guard drew his sword and raised it as he rushed at her.

At the same time, the second guard fired his arrow.

Marinette danced out of the way of the sword, but the arrow was faster. It skimmed her left thigh, slicing both fabric and skin. Marinette cried out as the pain sent her whole leg spasming, but that didn't stop her from ramming the first guard off the battlements. He fell several feet into the courtyard with a girlish scream.

When Marinette looked up, gritting her teeth, the marksman was reaching back for another arrow.

She had no choice now. She practically ripped off her dagger's holster and threw it like a frisbee at the guard. It bopped him square in the nose. Not enough to inflict damage… but just enough to make him stumble to the side and slip over the edge as well.

The rest of the Sheriff's men, unfortunately, weren't too far behind.

Breathing heavily, and doing her best to cover her red-soaked wound with her hand, Marinette bounded away like an injured rabbit.

* * *

"She's in the west watchtower, sir!" a soldier called. "I saw her go in!"

Roger beckoned his men onward. "Get in there, you hooligans! Arrest her on sight!"

His squadron obliged, scuttling into the bottom entrance of the tower like beetles.

The Sheriff sighed with content. He sneered down at the red, spotted cloak in his hand, running his thumb over the fabric. Old, obviously, but still sleek and durable. Now, it would be Roger's greatest trophy.

In a matter of minutes, Ladybug would be surrounded and apprehended. Roger would deliver her straight to Princess Chloe. Oh, he could already see the promotion she would give him in honor of his service to the crown. He deserved it, after all, considering all the years he spent chasing after the infamous Red Archer.

It wasn't long before two of his men emerged from the tower. Both of them looked rather abashed.

Roger didn't like it one bit. That golden medal he was starting to imagine was now slipping away like wisps of smoke. "Where is she?" he demanded.

The taller guard swallowed a lump down his throat. "We… We don't know, Sheriff. She's not there."

"Not there?! That's impossible! There are only two exits to that tower! She couldn't have escaped!"

"We're tellin' ya, Sheriff, she ain't nowhere!" another soldier insisted. "We looked in every hook and branny!"

"_Nook_ and _cranny_," his partner corrected.

"Oh, right."

Roger facepalmed himself, growling with newfound rage. "Imbeciles!" he shouted, sending bits of spit flying from his mouth. "She probably crawled up into the beams, or hid in a barrel, or flung herself out a window! I don't care where you look, just FIND HER!"

The two men leapt back fearfully before saluting. Then they trudged back to the watchtower.

The Sheriff, meanwhile, was finding it difficult to concentrate. He crumpled the cloak in his clenched fist.

His reputation wasn't the only thing at stake anymore. Because if Ladybug escaped from under his nose – _again_ – Princess Chloe would have him strung up from his own gallows.

* * *

Marinette kept to the shadows as she moved.

She had made it inside the castle through the servant's stairwell near the barracks. Now she was dragging herself through the empty halls, slipping in and out of rooms whenever she saw shadows streak along the torch-lit floor, or heard the stomping of footsteps down the hall.

She kept her breathing soft, but her wound was making it difficult not to wince. It stung fiercely and hurt every time she walked. An ugly red stain was splattered over the front of her thigh, and now more blood covered Marinette's hand as she tried to staunch it.

Thank His Majesty King Felix that the royal guards didn't have any hounds to sniff her out, or Nottingham would be short one outlaw by now.

A banging sound echoed down the hall behind Marinette. Someone was pounding on a door not too far from here.

Marinette moved faster, rounding a corner until she came upon the entrance to a spiral staircase. It was grand and made of pale marble, almost glowing in the morning light from the windows. Poking her head inside, Marinette looked up and saw it go about five stories high. That's when she realized where exactly she was: the guest tower on the south-west corner of the castle.

Wasting no time, Marinette bounded up the stairs as carefully and quietly as her leg would allow her. A sudden jab of pain made her bend forward, and she braced herself against the stone wall with her free hand. Marinette groaned between her teeth, her eyes tearing up and her limbs growing heavy with fatigue.

She didn't know how long she stood there in the dark. Seconds? Minutes? Argh! Why was it so hard for her to think?!

Marinette shook her head with a growl. _I need to keep going_, she told herself with iron willpower. _Adrien and the others are counting on me._ She wiped a palm-full of sweat off her brow before continuing up the stairs.

After a few more agonizing minutes, she saw an open doorway. Warm, welcoming orange light streamed from inside the chamber. Without thinking, Marinette clambered inside.

The room was lavish and spacious, complete with a soft embroidered carpet, decorative art pieces along the walls, and cushioned chairs. There was a single painted-glass window on the far wall, closed and barely letting in any daylight. There was a large fireplace beside the bed, but it was lifeless and cold.

So then… if that orange light wasn't from the fireplace… or the window…

_SLAM!_

Marinette gasped and spun around to face the door, her dirt-streaked face now awash with that same light she saw before.

It was coming from a blazing torch, and the person holding it – who now stood between the outlaw and her only way out – was none other than Princess Chloe herself.

Though her fuzzy pale-blue robe and matching slippers weren't a frightening sight to behold, the princess's murderous expression was. Her frizzled, straw-like hair fell around her head like a fiery halo, and her pale lips were drawn into a crinkly, tooth-baring sneer. Her eyes, made yellow by the torchlight, narrowed at her archenemy with unyielding hatred.

Marinette took a small step back, keeping her eyes locked on Chloe.

The princess slid away the door like a snake preparing to strike, her other hand slipping behind her as though to hide something. A knife?

"_So_ glad you could join the party, Ladybug," Chloe said with venom in her soft voice. "I had a special surprise planned for you. But as always, you like to spoil all my fun."

That word alone made Marinette frown with contempt. "Fun?" she said incredulously. "Is this all just a game to you? Forcing an entire town of innocent people to suffer? Attacking a helpless friar in his own church? Planning the execution of your cousin?" Marinette shook her head as she continued to back up. "Look around you, Chloe! Don't you realize what you're doing?! How much pain you're causing?!" She paused for breath before speaking again, "What would King Felix say if he could see you now?"

Chloe scowled and pointed the torch in Marinette's direction, causing the outlaw to stumble back hastily. "How _dare_ you speak to me that way, you wretched orphan!" she snapped. "I am the rightful Queen of England, not some humble goody-two-shoes like my _dear _older brother. Peasants like you should fear and respect royalty!"

Marinette stood her ground and lifted her chin, her face twitching only from her injury. "_No_, Chloe," she insisted, almost pleadingly. "Respect isn't earned through fear and punishment. It's earned through kindness. Generosity. Love."

"_Love?_ Ha!" the princess scoffed with distaste. "Don't make me laugh. Love has no currency; no value. It can't be counted or weighed. You can't even hold it in your hand. Love is _nothing_."

Marinette couldn't help but smile, and then she started giggling under her breath.

"What's so funny?" Chloe demanded. "Why are you laughing when I'm about to kill you where you stand?"

"Because… I just realized something…" Marinette said between breaths.

She stepped to the side, and Chloe followed her. Within seconds, they were circling each other.

"Love is worth more than any fortune you could possibly own," Marinette said, her words feeding the fire in her heart and helping her strength return. "All my life, I've had people who loved me, and I loved them in return. As long as I had _them_, I wanted for nothing."

She could see their faces clear in her mind: Friar Fu and his humble heart, Alya and her fierce courage, Otis the stubborn blacksmith, Nathaniel and his music, Nadja and her motherly love, bold Alix and sweet little Manon…

She saw Adrien; knew how much he loved her and what he was willing to sacrifice just to be with her.

She saw her father – Tom the baker, who had always put his passion and kindness in everything he made. He had passed that kindness onto his daughter. Marinette's eyes filled with tears as she remembered his final wish: _Whatever you decide to do, don't do it for yourself. Give to others. Give them happiness._

Marinette straightened and stared hard into Chloe's eyes. "All the gold in the kingdom can never replace the love I have for everyone. But _you_, Chloe…" She shook her head sadly. "You have allowed jealousy, greed and hatred to control your actions, and because of that… you will never be loved. You will never have everything you want."

Something like childish amusement flashed across Chloe's face. "Oh, that's where you're wrong, Ladybug," she said a dark tone that was anything _but_ childish. "I _always_ get what I want." Shadows danced across her face, revealing her deepening rage. "And what I want now… is _your death!_"

With a furious shriek, the princess lashed out with her torch.

Marinette had anticipated that, and she swept to the side on her good leg. The flapping fire seared past her face.

Chloe swept the torch at her again. And again. And again. Each time she missed, her mouth twisted with anger. "Hold still, you little brat!" she shouted, lunging again.

Marinette dodged, her thoughts racing. Chloe's attacks were getting more erratic. One false move, and the torch could set the whole chamber up in flames… and both ladies with it.

So, when Chloe struck again, Marinette didn't shy away this time. She grabbed the princess's arm and angled the fire away from her as she wrestled for control of the torch. To her surprise, Chloe wasn't as dainty and delicate as she looked. The blonde squirmed with the ferocity of a lioness.

Only then did Marinette realize she forgot about the knife.

Too late. Chloe lifted the tiny blade above her head and brought it down towards Marinette's exposed neck with a ragged yell.

Sheer instinct kicked in as Marinette let go of the torch, swerved out of the way, and kicked the knife right out of her opponent's hands, sending it flying.

The force of the kick made Chloe stumble back with shock, and she collapsed onto the carpet.

The torch, on the other hand, slipped from her grasp and rolled along the stone floor towards the bed curtains. The fabric caught fire easily, and the flames streaked all the way up to the wooden ceiling like glowing fingers.

Marinette gasped. _Not good!_

She glanced over at Chloe, who was rubbing her head as she struggled to sit up. Then, the outlaw looked towards the door. Then the fire.

Marinette groaned to the heavens before limping over to the fallen princess.

Chloe immediately came to her senses and hissed like a threatened cat – a far fetch from the sniveling, cowardly lady she was back at Stonefield.

Marinette jabbed her hand into the princess's face. "C'mon!" she said.

Chloe's eyes widened, and she glanced between those grimy fingers and her blue-haired adversary.

"Get up!" Marinette clarified with a raised tone. "This whole place is going up like kindling! We need to get out of here!"

As though just realizing it, Chloe inched over to look past the archer at the growing fire. Marinette could already feel the heat radiating against her back, growing stronger with each breath she took. The scent of burning wood and wool made her throat raspy and dry.

Finally, Chloe's icy-blue eyes met Marinette's deeper ones. Grunting with irritation, she reached towards Marinette's hand… and took it.

Marinette sighed and heaved the princess to her feet.

Chloe staggered back a bit, as though still shocked that her sworn enemy had offered to help her. But then, her eyes glinted like Alya's did whenever she tricked Marinette at cards.

Before the outlaw could react, Chloe sank to the floor, grabbed her end of the carpet, and gave it a hard yank.

Marinette felt her feet flying out from underneath her, and the fall knocked the wind out of her. She coughed and groaned, but the air was now so thick with smoke that it was hard to take a breath.

Despite the pounding throb in the back of her head, Marinette heard Princess Chloe's cruel laugh clear as day.

"Did you really think I would allow an outlaw to help _me_? Ridiculous! Utterly ridiculous!"

Marinette shook her head and looked up to see, to her dread, that the princess was now opening the chamber door.

"Now you will burn like the witch you are!" Sneering sweetly, Chloe curtsied with a broad sweep of her hand. "Fare thee well, Ladybug!" she declared over the roar of the fire. "With you out of the way, no one will _dare_ challenge my rule again! Maybe they'll call me the _Fiery_ Queen of England now!"

And with a dark cackle that seemingly made the beams above them rattle, the princess swept through the threshold and shut the door behind her.

Marinette scrambled to her feet, ignoring the sting from her leg wound, and pressed herself against the door. She tried the latch, but all it did was jingle in its place.

Chloe had locked it from the outside.

* * *

Alya was just running back up the hill with Nino when she saw Adrien come into view. Alix was kneeling beside him, and it looked like she was wrestling with a brown-haired rabbit.

No… not a rabbit. Manon! _They got her out!_ Alya thought.

But that's when she noticed that no one among the group wore red with spots of black. Alya's dread rose back up in her chest as she and Nino approached Adrien and the girls.

Adrien noticed them first and smiled at his friends. "The villagers?" he asked.

"With the Friar, in the woods," Nino replied breathlessly. "They're safe now."

Meanwhile, Manon was yelling at the top of her lungs, "No no no! I'm not going!"

"Manny, we can't stay here," Alix argued in her big sister voice. "We've gotta get back to Mom. She's worried sick about you."

"But what about Ladybug?" Manon cried, her tanned cheeks wet with tears.

Alya finally couldn't take it anymore. "_What_ about Ladybug?" she demanded. "I thought she was with you."

Adrien's green eyes went all forlorn and guilt-ridden as he stared at her. "The portcullis came down. I couldn't reach her in time." He sounded like he had swallowed a mouthful of sour cabbage.

Alya shivered, and it wasn't just from the morning chill.

Nino squeezed her hand, his brown eyes hopeful. "She'll make it out. She always does."

Alix nodded and gave Manon an assuring smile that wouldn't even convince a dog. "I betcha she's planning some epic escape right now."

Nino looked up towards the castle, his lips pursing. "If the portcullis is down, the only means of escape are over the wall or out a window. It'd have to be somewhere with a straight shot for the moat."

Adrien nodded in agreement. "Then let's go!"

"But Manon…" Alix began.

"I said I'm not going!" her little sister snapped, digging her foot into the ground.

Alya groaned up to the sky…

… and that's when she saw the thick, black smoke rising up from the other side of the castle.

The outlaw's face became the shade of dried wheat. Being the daughter of a blacksmith, she knew fire when she saw it. "Oh no…"

Adrien saw her expression and turned. A small gasp escaped him the moment he saw the smoke. "That's coming from the guest tower!"

Alix and Manon gasped.

"C'mon!" Nino cried.

The four of them raced over the grassy hill, with Alix carrying Manon the whole way.

Alya outran them all, her sunset-colored cloak flipping behind her. She could feel her heart pounding in her clenched fists.

Rena Rouge had almost lost her father to Chloe's madness. She would not lose her best friend too.

* * *

Sweat beaded down Marinette's face as she took in her surroundings. Her eyes watered from the heat and smoke, forcing her to squint.

Maybe there was something in here she could use to pick the lock. Sadly, the vanity was already burning, along with whatever lay inside its drawers. The bed canopy lit up like a glowing halo until it finally gave out and collapsed, dispersing embers everywhere. The ceiling cracked loudly, like the snapping of bones, and bits of wood fell to the floor. The carpet curled as the fire licked at it from all sides.

Marinette coughed again, her vision growing hazier. She could barely breathe. _Think, Ladybug, think! There must be another way out!_

That's when she saw the tiny window on the other side of the room. It was still closed, but the fire had not reached it yet.

Marinette took as deep of a breath as she could… and bounded for the window.

She unlatched the hook and practically threw it open on its hinges, and the morning air kissed her face. Gasping and coughing, Marinette heaved herself onto the sill and stood up, using her hands to reach up and grab the shingle roof up top.

Smoke drizzled through the cracks in the walls, and tongues of flame started to burst out through the roof. Marinette tried to heave herself up, but her arms were so weak. There was no way she could make it to the roof like this. Looking down, the archer's stomach flew to her throat when she saw the ground looming fifty feet below her.

But then she saw the gleaming surface of the moat. Marinette could jump, but from this height and in her condition, hitting the water would be like hitting her head against an iron pole. It would knock her out cold, and she would drown.

_Lower_, she thought. _I have to climb lower_.

Gritting her teeth, Marinette slowly eased herself down along the creases and cracks of the tower. Glowing bits of orange ash snowed around her, and the stones beneath her hands were scalding hot. She had to move fast.

Her foot moved to step onto a crease when something whizzed past her, making Marinette freeze.

"There she is!" a high-pitched voice bellowed from the battlements. "Shoot her!"

At the same time, Marinette heard other voices from down below: voices of friends. _Her_ friends. Alya's deep alto. Nino's high baritone. Adrien's strong tenor.

Joy flooded Marinette's exhausted limbs, and she almost let go. _They came back for me…_

_WHISH! WHISH! WHISH!_

More arrows swept past her, some of them striking the wall of the tower. The shafts snapped in two from the impact.

Marinette tried to shimmy down, but two more arrows grazed her back and nicked her shoulder. She cried out, fighting the urge to cover her shoulder. Her hands burning hotter now, and she had to dig one foot painfully into a crease just to keep herself from slipping. Fatigue hovered over her like a shadowy presence, like the spirit of Death himself was calling gently to her.

Over the shouts of the archers and Chloe's barking commands, the outlaw heard her name cutting through the ash-infested air, almost like an angelic echo: "Marinette…!"

She pressed herself against the wall, panting heavily. Ash coated her tongue, and her leg was cramping. Tears of pain leaked out the corners of her eyes as she squeezed them shut.

It was no use. She was trapped here. Sooner or later, the archers would find a better vantage point and make the shot.

Unless…

Marinette's eyes snapped open, clearer than the smoke that still threatened to choke her. She stared down at the moat, the gleaming streaks of the water dancing in her vision like diamonds.

She knew it was an awful risk, but then Adrien's voice echoed behind her again, and it renewed her courage.

The people she loved had always placed their faith in their hero. Now, it was time to place _her_ faith in _them_.

Marinette lifted her gaze to the sky. It was now a spectacular canvas of pink, blue and gold, like those bright cupcakes her father used to make for the Harvest Festival all those years ago.

_Papa… I did it…_

With a final prayer for luck, Marinette closed her eyes once more.

She let go…

… and Ladybug flew.

* * *

The breath in Adrien's lungs froze as he saw his lady fall right off the burning tower.

It took only a few seconds.

Then, as Adrien saw Marinette wrap her arms around her head in a weak attempt to shield herself, she hit the water with a hard, sickening splash that made Adrien wince.

Manon screamed, and Alix pulled her close.

"No!" Alya cried, her voice breaking.

Up above, the archers stopped firing their arrows. Princess Chloe and Sabrina both leaned over the battlements to get a better look at the water below, their faces lit up with surprise.

Great ripples expanded from the spot where Marinette had vanished. It was too murky to see anything below the surface, but several bubbles came up in a great gush.

_She… She could make it…_

_ It was such a big drop..._

_ She _has_ to make it…_

Adrien's thoughts fired like arrows in all directions. For a moment, he could do nothing but stand there on the muddy edge of the moat, watching the bubbles dance as he waited for his beloved to come up for air.

Three seconds passed. Five seconds passed.

"C'mon, Mari," Alya whispered, clasping her hands together as though in prayer. "C'mon…"

"She's gonna make it," Manon said before craning her head to look at her sister. "Isn't she, Ally?"

Alix didn't respond, her teal eyes growing wearier with every second that passed.

Adrien quickly glanced up at the battlements. Chloe was grinning from ear to ear. The archers were watching the outlaws now, as though goading them to make a move. It made anger crawl across Adrien's skin.

The bubbles came more slowly now, one at a time. Slower, too slow…

Adrien had enough. He tore his black cloak off.

"Adrien, don't!" Nino pleaded, grasping his arm. "The archers –!"

"I don't care!" the lordling shouted, ripping free of his best friend's hold. He didn't stop or say anything else as he bounded forward and dove into the water.

It was so murky and cold that he was afraid he wouldn't be able to find Marinette, even with his sharp vision. But he swam on anyway. He was going to find her, one way or another.

Something punctured the water beside him before slowing to a stop. An arrow.

Another zoomed past his head.

Adrien knew there was no point in trying to mask his movements. He kicked with all his might and went deeper, blinking each time to clear his water-logged eyes. Arrows shot by him, and one nearly grazed the lordling's stomach as he swerved from side to side.

Finally, he saw her: eyes closed, arms spread out beside her like an angel taking flight, midnight hair flailing softly around her pristine face like ribbons.

Adrien felt adrenaline take hold, and he managed to reach Marinette. He pulled her with him off to the side just before three more arrows struck the spot where they both had been. Then he kicked up towards the surface with his lady in his arms.

Fresh air greeted him, and Adrien quickly took a few painful breaths before swimming further along the moat, far out of range of the archers. He could hear angry voices above him, but he paid them no heed. Marinette was limp in his embrace, but Adrien knew he couldn't check on her until they were both out of harm's way.

Grunting and blinking furiously, Adrien drew closer to the bank. Then he saw Nino kneeling on the edge and offering him a hand. Adrien reached up and grasped his friend's arm, and he felt himself being heaved out of the moat still holding Marinette. He had no idea Nino was so strong.

He collapsed onto the grass with his lady, soaking wet and panting with exhaustion.

But now was not the time to rest.

Adrien rolled over and rose up to his knees beside Marinette's still form. He lifted her head so that he was cradling her like a newborn babe. "Milady," he said, "wake up." He shook her firmly, turning her face to him. She seemed so much paler now, even with the faded remains of ash and soot coating her glistening skin. She had a nasty gash on her right thigh, along with a bloody nick on her shoulder. Adrien forced himself to speak calmly, despite his shivering. "Please wake up. I'm fine. We're all fine. We're safe now."

Behind him, he heard Manon sniffling, and Alix whispered, "It's okay… It's okay…"

Adrien stroked Marinette's cheek again and again, as though trying to wake her from a peaceful dream. "Milady," he pleaded, his eyes filling with tears. "_Milady_."

A hand on his shoulder. "Adrien," Nino said, his tone low and full of pain. "I'm sorry. It's too late."

Alya let out a shuddering gasp, and she fell to her knees with a soft thud, burying her face in her hands.

All the while, Adrien shook his head. "No… No… _No_…"

It was Stonefield all over again. The fear. The denial. The helplessness. The guilt.

"YES!"

Adrien didn't dare take his eyes off his lady's beautiful face. He knew who had spoken. He knew who that freakishly obnoxious cackle of delight belonged to.

"She's finished! Done for! Gone! Dead! Defeated!" Princess Chloe cheered like a maddened child over a pile of candy. She whooped and hollered and sang, "Ladybug, Ladybug, finally gone!" before bursting out into hysterical laughter.

Alya growled viciously behind Adrien. "That… evil… wicked… murderous…!"

"Don't," Nino urged her, not unkindly. "It's not worth it."

Adrien tried to drown out Chloe's words, focusing only on the girl in his arms. His vision blurred once again, and his chest shuddered as he tried to breathe.

_Gone…_

"No," Adrien said again, pulling Marinette's head to his chest and resting his cheek in her soaked hair. She was so cold. "Please," Adrien pleaded with whatever god was watching them now. "Don't take her from me again."

The tears finally slid down his cheeks, landing on Marinette's face like dewdrops on leaves.

Chloe finally stopping singing, no doubt to get another good look at her long-awaited victory… and the agony on her dear cousin's face as he wept over her enemy's lifeless body.

There was absolute silence now. Birds chattered in the distance to welcome the new morning. A soft wind blew about the hill, still carrying the cold of night.

Then…

A tiny groan, followed by a movement against Adrien's chest that made him inhale sharply.

He looked down with widened eyes at Marinette, who started to stir and twitch her brow as though she had a headache. "Ugh… What…" she coughed and cleared her throat before opening her eyes. Still blue and lustrous and filled with life. They met Adrien's green eyes, squinting at him up and down. "Why are you all wet?"

Adrien wasn't sure if he was crying or laughing, but in that instant, he knew his eyes weren't deceiving him. She was alive!

Alix gasped and started laughing too. "It's a miracle!"

Manon cheered, "Ladybug!"

Alya sounded like she was choking on a fish bone as she came around to stare her best friend right in the eye. "Why you…! You…! Little…!" Then, just like that, she regained her cool demeanor and put her hands on her hips with annoyance. "You had me worried, Mari."

Marinette glanced up at her with a weak smile. "See? I told ya… you worry too much…" she sighed.

She looked at Adrien again. She reached up to touch his cheek, as though she herself could hardly believe she was lying here beside him. "Kitty…"

He pulled her into a deep embrace, ignoring the fact that they were both wet and cold. "I'm here, Milady," he told her, sighing into her neck. "I'm with you."

_I'm with you always._

Up above, someone gasped with horror. "Look, Your Highness – look!" a girlish voice cried through the silence. "She made it! Ladybug survived!"

Adrien and Marinette pulled away from each other to look up to see a doe-eyed Princess Chloe staring down at them. Even from this distance, they could see the shock and disbelief written clean over Chloe's pale face: pupils thin, eyelids twitching, jaw slack, head moving back and forth ever so slowly.

No one said anything. Behind the two lovers, Alya, Nino, Alix and Manon were also shooting dark glares and smirking grins up at the disheveled princess.

Then, with a single movement, Adrien lifted Marinette into his arms and stood proud and tall like a soldier on the battlefield. Marinette wrapped her arms around his neck and rested her head on his shoulder, obviously tired and weak from battle.

Adrien looked up into his royal cousin's eyes one last time, his expression hard and bold. _You can't have her_, it said clearly to her without the need for words.

Chloe blinked at him, as though still unable to grasp the reality before her.

Then, Sir Adrien of Agreste – no, _Cat Noir_ – turned his back on the princess of England and walked away from the bank, carrying Marinette with him.

He heard the firm footsteps of his companions following right behind him, marching wordlessly with their leader like a troupe of Nottingham's finest warriors.

Until Manon called behind him, "A pox on da Phoney Queen of Engand!"

Alix giggled.

Marinette sighed against Adrien with a smile, breathing softly, savoring the warmth and feel of him.

Adrien smiled as well and held her close the entire way back to Sherwood Forest.

And he vowed he would never let her go again.

* * *

Chloe shook her head. Again. And again. And again.

This was supposed to be her finest moment. Ladybug was supposed to be lying dead before her, not being carried off into the sunrise by her handsome prince.

And that tiny little brat's words echoed like that annoying song: _Phoney Queen of England… A pox on the Phoney Queen of England…_

_ Chlo the Worst… The measly, weaselly…_

_ Phoney…_

_ Phoney…_

Chloe grasped her head with both hands and let out a long, agonizing wail that could almost be heard over the cackling of flames. Oh, right. The guest tower was still on fire. Chloe bent over the stone railing of the battlements, weeping like a small child who had just woken from a nightmare.

"Princess!" Sabrina gasped beside her, her tone implying that she was absolutely appalled. "They're getting away again! What are you waiting for?! Summon the guards!"

"No… No… No…" Chloe moaned, banging her fist upon the stone. "It's so… so miserably… unfair!" She burst out sobbing, not caring about anything but her own misery.

This wasn't supposed to happen. She had everything! Gold, a castle, power…

But her gold was stolen from her. Her castle was burning. The people of Nottingham would more likely run her out of town now that they were all free.

Chloe hiccupped and wiped a trail of snot on the sleeve of her robe. Only then did she realize she was covered in bits of soot. Now it was all over her face. The princess groaned with trembling frustration.

"I'm ruined!" she shouted, clenching her fists. "And it's all that… that…"

No, she dared not say her name. It was surely a taboo of some nature; a curse sent from hell to haunt Chloe and take away all she held dear.

"I can get it all back," she muttered to herself, rubbing her hands together with a crooked sneer. "Yes. I'll take it back! I'll hunt her down. I'll hunt them _all _down! I have any army. I'll make them obey me. Why _wouldn't_ they obey me? I'm the queen. Queen. Yes. I am the –"

"Oh, for heaven's sake, Your Highness!" Sabrina snapped, throwing her arms up to the sky as though to prove her point. Her face was twisted into an aggravated frown of disgust. "I keep trying to tell you, but _noooo_. You never listen to me! When are you going to realize that your traps never work?!" She gestured to the flaming tower, which was now a black, skeletal husk of its former self. "And now look what you've done to your mother's castle!"

_Mother?!_

"AAAAHHH!" Chloe cried, her eyes nothing but pinpricks. Then, she whimpered, "Mommy…" before sticking her thumb in her mouth and turning away.

That's when she saw the small wooden plank lying on the ground.

On the bright side, she stopped sucking her thumb.

On the other side…

Well… um…

* * *

Sabrina hastened down and around the battlements with her arms over her head, shrieking.

The crazed Princess Chloe ran after her, swinging the plank furiously at her helpless maidservant whenever she got close enough.

Some of the guards (perhaps wisely) backed away, not wanting anything to do with their dysfunctional monarch. A rare few actually tried to help the poor redheaded girl.

Even when Sabrina ran inside one of the watchtowers and Chloe followed her, you could still here their unified cacophony of anger and panic echoing through the air:

"You sneaky servant! You cowardly caterer!"

"AH! Princess! Please!"

"You delinquent drudge! You miserable maid!"

"Stop! Somebody, stop her! AH!"

"You bumbling bumpkin! You... You... eel in maid's clothing!"

"HELP! She's gone stark-raving MAD!"

* * *

**LXP: Welp, that's it. She's gone nuts. But we all knew that was gonna happen.**

**Only one chapter to go! Coming real soon!**


	20. All's Well That Ends Well

CHAPTER TWENTY:

ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL

_Many folks who lived to see the day Nottingham Castle burned called it the "Day of the Red Dawn". In fact, they made a certain holiday of it, celebrating the defeat of the wicked Princess Chloe and the return of their beloved hero Ladybug._

_ And while I was fortunate enough to have seen it all happen, I must vainly admit that many of these facts would never have been known if I had not been there to record it all._

_ But I digress. It's time to bring our story to it's long-awaited close._

_ In the days that followed Ladybug's flight from the castle, no one had seen or heard anything from Princess Chloe or Sheriff Roger. Now, with respect, most of the townsfolk had taken sanctuary deep in Sherwood Forest at this time, so very few were aware of what was happening in Nottingham._

_ Would Chloe return with an army and hunt us all down, as many of us feared?_

_ Had she thrown herself into the fires of the burning tower in her madness, as many of us assumed?_

_ Thankfully, our hearts and our fears were put to rest on a beautiful autumn afternoon beneath the interweaving branches of Sherwood…_

* * *

Flickers of red, orange and brown danced through the air as they fell from the trees, creating a carpet of leaves between the two rows of onlookers facing the rose-covered archway.

Standing in the archway was Friar Fu, clad in a warm robe and holding an open book in his hands. Occasionally, he would glance up as he read aloud, smiling at the bride and groom standing before him.

Marinette and Adrien held hands as the priest spoke, unable to tear their eyes off each other for more than five seconds. Not that it was their fault.

The groom looked remarkably dashing in that dark-green tunic and soft, black vest that went well with the black pants, boots, and a belt that bore the proud lion of England on the buckle. Adrien's golden hair was combed through, and a small crown made up of birch twigs, autumn leaves and pine cones adorned his head.

Marinette wore an identical crown, but hers bore daisies and bits of bluebell. _To match your eyes_, Rose had said when she had shown it to her.

The bride's dress had been a gift from Nadja – a small token of her gratitude for saving her daughters' lives. It was old and threadbare, but Nadja had kept it tucked away in her trunk in the years that followed her marriage to her dearly-departed husband. It wasn't much, but it was all anyone could produce on such short notice.

Marinette thought it was perfect. The silk bodice and long skirt were the colour of buttercream, with fleur-de-lises stitched along the hem of the dress. The sleeves where puffed along the shoulders and upper arms, and the cuffs were tied at the wrist with matching ribbon. The square neckline allowed room for an arrowhead necklace, handmade by Alya. Beneath her crown, Marinette's midnight-blue hair fell along her shoulders in soft watery waves.

Each time she caught Adrien looking at her with that warm, mischievous feline smile, Marinette's stomach would spin around inside her, and she would hide her giggling beneath a smile of her own. _I can't believe this is really happening_, she thought.

It had only been four days since she had fallen from the burning tower, but it felt like months. The wound on Marinette's leg was almost completely healed, thanks to Friar Fu, and the rest of her injuries were nothing but barely-noticeable scratches. Her back and leg muscles were still stiff, but they too would stretch out soon enough. It wasn't the first time Marinette had to take it easy after a rigorous heist.

She and Adrien had saved each other, and now they would be together forever.

Behind them, their friends stood among the crowd, jittery with happiness and excitement. A few sniffles sounded here and there, but the only tears being shed today were the good kind. At long last, the people of Nottingham would enjoy a moment of sheer bliss.

"By the power vested in me, and by God's Holy Church," Friar Fu's deep voice sounded, his eyes now casting over the crowd, "if any man or woman… or child… has any reason why these two should not be joined, I ask that you speak now or forever hold your peace."

Marinette and Adrien exchanged another glance before turning to face their silent audience.

Nino teasingly raised his hand, until Alya elbowed him in the ribs with a smirk. Otis chuckled at that as he leaned on his crutch. Alix stood beside her mother and sister, looking around as though she _wanted_ someone to speak out just so she could have the pleasure of landing that poor soul on his rear. Kim, Max, Rose and Juleka covered their mouths to stifle their snickering. Nathaniel looked down at his lute, put his ear to it, and then straightened before shaking his head with a smile.

"Now kiss!" Manon called eagerly, and no one could hold back their laughter anymore.

Marinette smiled big at her people. Her friends. Her family.

Friar Fu closed his book with content and crossed his arms before him. "In that case, I now pronounce you –"

"Hold!"

Marinette and Adrien turned suddenly at that strong, sharp voice that sounded from down the aisle.

The onlookers gasped at the sight of three knights on horses approaching them. Two of them wore mail, helmets and strawberry-red uniforms. They both carried a tall banner bearing the roaring golden lion upon a field of black.

Marinette's heart skipped a beat. She recognised that crest.

Sure enough, when her eyes fell upon the third knight, he bore the same insignia proudly on his black chest. Instead of a helmet, a broad hood concealed his face. Several flat protrusions poked up underneath the hood.

Adrien was gaping at the man with something between surprise and glee.

The black knight dismounted and then carefully removed his hood, revealing a triangular face thick with a golden beard. A crown sat upon his head, studded with rubies, sapphires and diamonds.

Marinette immediately saw the resemblance between the man and her husband-to-be: the golden hair, the sharp features, the green irises. The only thing missing was a smile, for the man appeared stoic and expressionless as a marble statue.

A collective cry of recognition rang out. Then, every man, woman and child hastily dropped to their knees, bowing their heads. Friar Fu did the same.

Adrien just stood there grinning from ear to ear. "Felix!" he said, his voice loud in the background of shocked silence.

Marinette's heart pounded at the name, even though she knew it to be true: Felix the Lionheart, the King of England. Chloe's older brother. Adrien's cousin.

The King's eyes – so unlike those of his sister – lingered heavily over the townsfolk before stopping at Marinette.

The young bride immediately sank to the ground in a deep curtsy, hoping that the king wouldn't see her cheeks reddening.

"_I _will speak," King Felix called more softly, though his words still carried that royal edge to it. He strolled down the aisle and glanced between his cousin and the outlaw.

Marinette couldn't help but lift her head to gaze up at her king and liege lord. Adrien stood beside her, his grin fading as though he just realized that the king's presence here might not be a good sign.

Only when King Felix approached the couple did he declare, "I will not allow this wedding to proceed."

More gasps from the crowd, this time of horror.

Something like a stone dropped in Marinette's stomach, which had been giddy with joy a moment ago.

Adrien's face darkened. "Cousin…"

"You heard me, Adrien," King Felix said without a hint of remorse. "It is not fitting for a man of noble blood to be joined with a common outlaw, especially one who has caused _considerable_ havoc in my kingdom."

Marinette shot to her feet, a retort ready on her lips. King or no king, she had been torn away from Adrien too many times. "My lord…" she said in an almost-pleading tone.

King Felix lifted a finger. "However…" he added quickly, raising his eyebrow at the bride. "I _could_ be persuaded otherwise… on one condition." Then, to Marinette's surprise, he smiled big and broad. "I give the bride a royal pardon."

Behind the king, the villagers talked confusedly amongst themselves.

Adrien eyed his cousin with a slackened expression.

Marinette just held the king's gaze, unsure what to say or how to react.

King Felix broke the confusion at last by announcing to all in the vicinity: "As your King, I hereby absolve the heroine Ladybug of her alleged crimes against the people of Nottingham. Henceforth, she will be cleared of all charges and be granted a token of her services to the crown."

Marinette's eyes widened, and her mouth parted.

Before she could say anything, King Felix waved one of his knights over. The man approached his king and extended a small red bundle in his arms.

It was a cloak. A new red cloak peppered with large black polka-dots. The clasp bore the lion insignia.

Marinette inhaled deeply, covering her mouth. Even Adrien looked amazed.

King Felix took the cloak and held it out to the astounded bride. "I am told you have a taste for the theatrical," he said with a curl of his mouth. "I hope this will serve you well… as Nottingham's protector."

Nobody was keeping silent anymore. They chattered excitedly like birds in spring. Alya was practically squealing with delight.

Marinette forced herself to breathe, and she kept glancing between the king and this gorgeous new cloak, as though wondering if this was some kind of joke.

"Go on, Milady," Adrien said to her. "It's not everyday the King of England gives you a new set of clothes."

King Felix cast his cousin another smirk. "I see you're still as humorous as ever." He looked back at Marinette. "I admire your courage, my dear. No woman has ever endured _his_ witty remarks for too long."

Laughter broke out from the crowd.

Marinette considered the laughter a good omen, and she graciously accepted the cloak with a dip of her head and a bright smile. "Thank you, Your Majesty. I'm honoured."

King Felix shook his head. "It _you_ who has honoured _me_, Ladybug," he said. "Thanks to you, I still have a throne… and a kingdom." He looked back at his people with saddened eyes. "Had I known that my sister was trying to usurp me, I never would have left. Much of England has suffered in my absence." He turned back to the couple with the resolve of a monarch. "But I promise you this: I shall never again abandon my people. The two of you have done so much for Nottingham, and for that, I am eternally grateful." He took Marinette's hand and kissed it on the back. "So, I ask that you accept my gift… and my blessing."

Marinette nodded, her eyes almost filling with tears.

Adrien embraced his royal cousin and muttered a thank you before taking his place at his bride's side again.

As soon as the couple joined hands, King Felix stepped back and said, "Friar, proceed."

Friar Fu bowed low. "Of course, My Liege. Now, where was I? Oh, yes. Um…" He shrugged and announced with a smile. "Husband and wife!"

More chuckling from the crowd. Marinette never wanted it to end. After so much suffering and despair, they could use a little more laughter in their lives.

The bald priest nodded to Adrien. "You may kiss the bride."

"No need to tell _me_," the lordling sneered before turning to face his lady.

As Marinette threw her arms around Adrien and kissed him more fiercely than she ever had before, King Felix raised his arms to praise the married couple, and all of Nottingham cheered as one.

High above, the leaves of autumn rained down from the sun-streaked canopy, glinting like jewels in a treasure trove.

And Marinette felt like the richest girl in all of England.

* * *

_With Nottingham Castle burned to the ground, Adrien's father, Lord Gabriel, decided to re-establish his estate and holdings in London. This time, however, his son refused to join him. Upon learning that Adrien had married a notorious outlaw – and a peasant girl, at that – Lord Gabriel had been furious and humiliated. Fortunately, there was nothing he could do now that King Felix knew that the nobleman had been conspiring to put Princess Chloe on the throne with Adrien as her king and consort._

_Lord Gabriel left a small fortune behind with Adrien – begrudgingly, of course – and even set foot in Nottingham again. The young lordling decided to put it to good use by renovating the local bakery that had once belonged to Marinette's father. Another large portion of the money was given to Friar Fu for his humanitarian efforts._

_ As he promised, King Felix ensured that his sister and her associates would never cause trouble to Nottingham or any other town ever again._

_ Princess Chloe, deemed mad and mentally-unstable, was forgiven by her brother and sent to live in a convent on the edge of the kingdom. She would spend the rest of her days under the watchful care of the Sweet Sisters, a group of nuns who took charge over the chronically and mentally ill. King Felix often visited his sister when he could, but in time, the former princess would become nothing more than a hollow husk of her former self._

_ Sabrina was given a kinder fate, and was allowed to join a nunnery somewhere near Wales. They say she continues to pray each day and thank the Lord Almighty for sparing her of the atrocity she had once served._

_ As for Sheriff Roger, King Felix stripped him of his authority and sentenced him to ten years of public service. And for his first act of duty, Roger was given the honour of publicly announcing Ladybug's royal pardon…_

* * *

They were all laughing at him. They didn't show it, but he could see it in their eyes. It made him squirm inside his skin.

No more enforced taxes, which meant no more poor peasants to swindle. Roger missed staring down at them all like the cockroaches they were. Now, as he stood at the great oak tree in the main square of Nottingham, the former Sheriff seemed so much shorter. About a hundred people had crammed into the surrounding streets to hear his announcement, and their gazes lingered over Roger like a hundred arrows ready to shoot him down.

On the bright side, the two royal guards – the _king's_ guards – served as protection, as well as insurance that Roger would perform his duty. They weren't Trigger and Nutsy, that's for sure, but they were better than nothing.

At least the old vulture and his ditsy sidekick were in jail, safe and sound and undisturbed in a cell. Far from the leering eyes of the commoners. Not to mention Trigger and his "Old Betsy" would never rouse anyone from their sleep ever again.

Roger turned to the tree, where a withered wanted poster lay nailed into the bark. Ladybug's face almost sneered down at the plump man, as though saying, "You soldiers never learn."

Scowling, Roger ripped the poster off, savouring the tearing sound. He threw the pieces to the ground before removing a roll of parchment from within his tunic. Roger unrolled it and cleared his throat loudly.

"By order of His Royal Majesty King Felix the Lionheart," he stated with a bile taste in his mouth, "the renowned archer Lady Marinette of Nottingham, also known as Ladybug the Red Archer, is hereby pardoned of all crimes and restored to a high state of honour for her valiant services to the people of Nottingham and to the Crown." Roger grumbled until he caught one of the king's soldiers glaring at him, and he continued. "Henceforth, the Lady Marinette will be bestowed the title "Defender of Nottingham", decreed by His Majesty and sanctioned by the Holy Church."

The crowd whispered excitedly, and Roger caught a few children sticking their tongues at him. He ignored them and turned back to the tree, smoothing the decree against it and placing his hand up in the centre to hold it steady. He stretched his fingers apart to get at both corners.

That's when he realized he was missing something, and Roger sighed irritably. "I need a nail," he said.

A few chuckles escaped the lips of the onlookers.

Roger frowned at them over his shoulder, his wounded pride refusing to sink any lower. "Someone! A nail!" he shouted.

_WHIZZ!_

Roger never saw it coming, but he felt the impact vibrating through the bark beneath his fingers.

Everyone gaped with surprise.

Something cold slithered down Roger's spine, and he gulped. Then, ever-so-slowly, he turned back to the decree.

Nailing the parchment to the tree, embedded right in the spot between his middle and ring fingers, was a cherrywood arrow. Its fletching was as bright and bold as a ladybug's wings.

In his panic, Roger looked around, but the large crowd had already parted to reveal a grinning young woman in a red hood, her bow still raised at him.

Beside the former outlaw stood Sir Adrien – or Cat Noir, or whatever he called himself these days. He was leaning casually on his staff and shooting Roger a bemused look that said, "Gotcha."

There were three other people in hoods: orange, green, and teal. Roger recognised them all. Rena Rouge in all her roguish glory. Adrien's shield-bearing manservant. That pink-haired peasant brat with the big mouth. All of them hovered close to Ladybug like devoted knights to their lady.

Roger's face reddened with anger and dread. _They never stop coming!_

Ladybug giggled and lowered her bow. Then, she lifted her hood to brush her midnight-blue hair. "Morning, Sheriff," the girl said with a bright airy tone, as though she were addressing an old friend. "Beautiful day, huh?"

Roger blinked at her with a gaping mouth, and only then did the crowd start chortling amongst themselves, waving at their heroine or otherwise pointing at the old man's face.

Ladybug saluted the two guards beside him, and they both saluted back with a smile.

That's right. "Defender of Nottingham" – that's what she was now. Her and her merry little band of brigands. No more running from the law. No more evading the guards. The sheer incredulity of it all gave Roger a burning stitch in his side.

Ladybug gave Roger a glittering wink before she took Adrien's hand and turned away. Together, they headed down the main street, their red and black cloaks fanning behind them as they caught in the breeze. The rest of her retinue followed, their weapons propped on their shoulders as they marched in a single row of five, with Ladybug at their centre.

And while the townsfolk continued savouring their former Sheriff's pale-faced terror, Roger wondered if he would ever be free of that red-cloaked renegade ever again.

* * *

_Well, folks… that's the way it really happened. _

_From that day forth, Ladybug and her Merry Men – as they were so innocuously called – protected the people of Nottingham from danger and injustice for the rest of their days._

_Even as the legend continues to change, the truth of it all will never leave these pages, or the memories of those who lived to see it all happen. In times of peace and in times of war, the folks of Nottingham knew they could always count on Ladybug, Cat Noir, Rena Rouge, Carapace, Bunnyx, and all others who joined their cause._

_And some today believe that Ladybug is still out there, even after all these decades. Maybe not the one we knew, but someone who has taken up her mantle and motto – someone from a new generation to continue the Red Archer's noble legacy. Whatever the case, this author does not doubt that the legend of Ladybug will live on for centuries to come._

End of Chapter V: **"The Adventures of Ladybug: The Red Archer"**

Signed,

Nathaniel a'Dale

circa. 1192

THE END

* * *

**LXP: Finally! After such a long break, it's all finished. Thanks for sticking around this long, readers.**

**Once again, I do NOT own anything associated with _Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Cat Noir_ or _Robin Hood_.**

**If you haven't already, please check out my other ML crossovers. I promise you they're a lot better than this one! They are my 3-part "Miraculaddin" series, "The Little Miraculous", and my 2-part _Once Upon a Time_ Xover series.**

**My next project is a gender-bent rendition of Disney's _Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs_. Stay tuned!**

**Spots off! :)**


	21. Coming Soon

**_Coming Soon…_**

Greetings my fellow Fanfictioneers!

Now that "Prince Snow and the Seven Dwarfettes" is finished, I'm happy to announce that I'm currently working on my next _Miraculous Ladybug_ crossover:

"Miraculous Lake", which is – you guessed it – a retelling of Tchaikovsky's _Swan Lake_.

Having wanted to do an ML-Swan Lake crossover for a long time, I've finally decided on the story. This particular Fanfic will be a crossover of _Miraculous Ladybug_ and _Barbie of Swan Lake_ (2003 film).

I DO NOT own any of the material mentioned.

Stay tuned! Spots off! :)


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